


Legendary Luna

by dakatmew



Series: Legendary [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Fairy Tail
Genre: Artifacts, Character Deaths, Daedra, Daedra Worship, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Death, Destruction, Dragon Slayers, Dragons, Empires - Freeform, F/M, GMG, Gajevy - Freeform, Gale - Freeform, Grand Magic Games, Guilds, LaLu - Freeform, Love Story, LuNa - Freeform, Magical Combat, Multichapter, NaLi - Freeform, OCs - Freeform, OT4, Otps, Random OCs - Freeform, Rituals, Sequel, The Black Hand, Trilogy, Vampires, acnologia - Freeform, alduin - Freeform, battles, battles to the death, character takeover, characters being asses, competitions, destroying for destroying, enormous magic, epic deaths, hostile takeover, i'm killing your dreams, laxlu - Freeform, legendary, legendary luna, really confusing things, unnecessary character deaths, way too many characters, weird pairings, you should be crying by the end, you'll hate me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 12:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 89,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6005278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dakatmew/pseuds/dakatmew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to Legendary, almost 16 years from where we left off.<br/>Listener has a plan. It doesn't help that she's gotten fairly.... un-sane over the years, but she doesn't like giving up easily. The risk has to pay off- for both their sakes. But how far are both of them willing to go?<br/>This could destroy the world. Or save it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Takeover Amidst Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the sequel! You really had to wait a long time, I know.  
> This chapter's song is Dead Flowers by Demon Hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is Dead Flowers by Demon Hunter.

“The door is right over there, Navina. You can choose to get out of here, once your debt is repaid, but why stop there? I believe you would make a wonderful addition to the Dark Brotherhood.”  
“I- I don’t know. I know some magic, but I’m nothing compared to the other guildmates of mine. And I’m not the best at sneaking around and being undetected, like you guys. I don’t even know how you found out about that accident.” the dark woman replies, glancing back at the body of the person she killed, out of three. “It’s not something I would have done, honest!”  
“It doesn’t matter, Navina. You have an aptitude for it, and I want you in our organization. You’ll be family, and you’ve been rather down on your luck, haven’t you? Your guildmates hassling you for the money you owe them.”  
Her gaze shifted downwards, and she scuffed her feet on the floor. “Well, yeah, but I’d still need to repay them. I still have some morals.”  
“I’m not implying that you don’t. We can give you a way to meet the demand for your skills with your aptitude, and you are easily a person who can make others laugh and like them, then instantly dismiss them as suspects in a murder case. Your magic is strong, powerful, and you may ply a blade, too, if you wish.”  
“When you put it like that…”  
“Here. Have a lacrima.” The magically charged ball lands in her hands, just barely catching it before it shatters against the floor. “Contact us when you’re ready, good enough to take the next step to join our Family.”  
“O-okay…” she says, and the figure moves from where she was, leaning against the wall in a shadowy corner, all but the barest trace of an outline visible, to the door, unlocking it for her guest.  
“You may go. And- don’t tell anyone about this little meeting. I would hate to have a potential Sister killed on account of clumsiness.”  
The frightened girl walks out of the shack, and once she exits it, the figure locks the door once more, leaving us alone.  
“How was that?”  
“Silence befits the dead.”  
She nods once, and turns to the remaining captives, though they cannot see anything and are bound, hand and foot. With a quick knife thrust, the person lies dead, and a silent spell makes the other’s brains splatter on the opposite side of the skull through the eardrums, the noise too much to take.  
Both of them lie dead before her feet.  
My daughter’s.  
I’m so proud.  
My name is Listener, and my daughter, Luna Laila, is my protege.

~This is set 15 ¾ years after the events of Legendary~

Once small and pitiful, the Black Hand, the Dark Brotherhood, has expanded, into every nation on this plane of existence. But the stage is set for my next plan, and I will see to it that it comes to fruition.  
I walk out onto my balcony, overlooking the city of old called Cheydinhal, and I smile at the fact that I honor Lucien Lachance’s memory by making his former residence my own home here. There are many advantages to this- there are denizens that protect my home, and the trapdoor is unlockable only by key- and I check the Skeleton Key’s place in this world quite often.  
The old fort has been expanded enough for my liking, and banners hang about the place, displaying the Black Hand symbol. The library has enough knowledge to make a scholar die of excitement- if I ever show this place to someone besides Luna. It is our personal Sanctuary.  
Over the past years, I have recruited new members, tutored them, trained my daughter in the ways of murder and lies, loyalty and innocence. Several have proven themselves quite valuable, including Racer, Cobra, and Midnight, all from the Oracion Seis. They’ve been good to the organization, and have risen up the ranks, though it has slowed down some, as Silencers, Speakers, and Listener are all filled. However, I have been reviewing more plans for expansion, across to Akavir. Even I do not know what lies over there- I have been tied to the Night Mother here, where I can hear her voice.  
Luna is quite the prodigy, casting spells by one and complex incantations by two, beating out old Festus Krex. He would have been so… so proud to see her here, even perhaps tutoring the girl to enjoy the glory of the Destruction school, much more than I have time to. I know she would have loved him as a teacher as well, the cranky old uncle to reprimand her then tell her exactly what to do. (1)  
Reminiscing, I must stop doing that. The past seems to get in the way more often, now that the Black Hand has, well, a hand in nearly everything on this continent.  
I smile, sipping my coffee. I still remember how to grow Moon Sugar like the Khajiits did, or, a close enough approximation.  
“Mother, what does this say?” a familiar and comforting voice rings out behind me, high and clear. I turn about, gladly giving up my view of the city in exchange for my daughter.  
Her blue-black hair almost reaches her knees, almost as long as mine (2), and her sharp, angular face plays up her pointed ears and tan skin, with her eyebrows slanted and her eyes sharp, although she did not like them. They are, she thinks, the least attractive thing about her.  
They’re actually quite beautiful. Where there should be white, there is a deep, blood red, and where the iris is is a vivid green, a reminder of her father’s magical power. (3)  
Her form is tall, and her bangs hurriedly brushed past her ears, showing eagerness in learning through books. She’s slim, but built like an horse, powerful when she needs to be, and with an affinity for magic that would impress Festus, as stated before, and even Neloth is somewhat impressed by her, as she comes up with new spells often enough for him to start getting angry about it, calling it ‘nothing but dumb luck.’  
The way that she takes after me is evident in her magic, and her ears, basically everything about her. I cannot, however, claim her eyes. Most of the time, she uses sensory magic, and, just her regular senses, mainly because she blindfolds herself so that she isn’t reminded.  
As for me, I changed too. New armor has given me a sleeker, more streamlined approach to killing targets, and especially when intimidating people. Skeletal wings sprout from my back, as I had to feed so that Luna could survive, no longer halting the spread of the dragon demon inside me.(4) However, I seem to be able to control it, and every time that it flares out, I send it to my back, providing extra protection and allowing the wings to grow out and up even more. Right now, they reach to my mid thigh, but if I continue feeding enough, they’ll be good enough to fly me anywhere I wish without additional magic required to aid staying aloft.  
Still have pale golden skin, as I am still a High Elf, every feature the same, except the fangs have grown, too. Like I’ve said before, it’s fun to intimidate people without needing to actually harm them. Much more fun than ever before.  
I turn to the book she’s holding out to me, her confused by it’s contents, and I smile in familiarity. “The book, it’s Sithis, is it not? It speaks of how the people of the world are easily fooled by the reality of the situation around us, when it in itself can be bent and made to conform to the will of the spellcaster. Think of it like casting a sensory spell onto someone else, in combination with an illusion spell, making them believe, truly, that they are in Solstheim, or Vvardenfell, or anywhere you wish.”  
Luna nods, smiling now. “I understand. Is that truly what Sithis is?”  
I turn back to the view, and take it in. “Sithis is the Void, He is darkness, He is comfort, He is emptiness, He is… everything, and nothing, at the same time. Some people may believe that He is a skeleton, to represent His relationship to death, but it is just a simple understanding of something so interesting it’s almost sacrilegious. Sithis is silence, He is noise, He is all and none.”  
“Why do we follow him?” she asks, approaching me and leaning on the railing in a secure way, knowing that if she fell, I’d catch her.  
“He gives us His power through the Night Mother’s voice, and we return it with sending souls to Him. Our fallen brothers and sisters are able to live again, at His side, and are able to be summoned, here, to Mundus, to know what they know, and hear what they sense.”  
She nods again, and smiles at me, closing her eyes in the process.  
“Thank you, mother. When are we going to enact your plan?”  
I chuckle at her eagerness. “Soon, my little nightshade. Soon.”

~At Fairy Tail~  
“Another!” calls out Cana, with Bacchus at her side.  
Mirajane calmly pushes her another beer, and slides the next to Cana’s lover, giggling at the pair of them, before turning to the other patrons at the bar.  
“Master, you should really slow down on those. You’re not as young as you were.” she says, happy nonetheless. Wendy could cure him, her powers had advanced by a lot since the final battle with Listener.  
“Shaddup, you hot blondie. Say, why do they get more booze?” Makarov stated, dizzy even sitting on the barstool and struggling to keep his balance even more. Without another word, he falls off of his chair and passes out, his empty mug just being caught by Lucy.  
“Hey, Mira-nee. Can I have a strawberry milkshake?”  
“Of course, Lucy. And what will your man meat have?” the Demon woman winks at the Celestial mage, and she blushes a bit, before ordering for him as well.  
“The number 6 for him.”  
Mira chuckles. “Of course. When are you two going to have kids?”  
Just then, Laxus sits down beside his girl, putting his arm protectively around her and growls at Mira with her questioning attitude.  
“When we want, Mira. Now I believe you have something to do.”  
Lucy sighs at the retreating back of the barmaid, and Laxus sighs as well, though not of relief. She glances back at where he was for a moment, finding nothing, then scans the rest of the guild to spot a figure, getting smaller now, walking out of the guild hall, on another SS class mission.  
“Couldn’t talk him out of it, could you?”  
“I don’t think anyone can these days. He seems determined to do everything dangerous for some reason.” Laxus mutters, and Lucy stirs the straw in her milkshake that Mira delivered only a moment ago.  
“You can’t really blame him. That… woman was… is, still, a big part of his life. Of everyone’s life here. I don’t think he wants to be reminded of that with all the couples around here, among other things.”  
“I still can’t believe that he was so attached to her…. She wasn’t exactly the nicest person.” quips Mira, ambling over and joining the conversation, welcoming the chance to discuss their friend’s problems.  
Lucy continues swirling the straw in her glass, while Laxus manages to fit an enormous amount of food into his stomach, and Mira cleans the glass of a mug.  
All is calm, all is quiet as can be in the Fairy Tail guild hall.  
A fight breaks out in the corner, escalating quickly as a chair almost hits Lucy, instead getting deflected by Laxus’ magic, drawing him into the brawl.  
A normal day for all, except for a retreating figure, ten dolls floating above his head, on his way to a mission.

~Back with Listener~  
The orders come easily to my mouth now, flowing out of it as wonderfully as blood comes in. The Night Mother’s orders, are, above all, key to this operation, and to be followed without delay, but mine, mine are second, and since I am the Night Mother’s communicator, they are just as important.  
“Noctus, Nightshade, Fukuro, Killian, Cobra, Midnight.” I call out over the assembled crowd of murderers in the room, looking up at me. I’m sitting on the edge of a balcony with no railing, one leg hanging off and swinging, the other with my hand resting on it.  
“You are the team to take down the guilds in Fiore.” I say, the last piece of my plan falling into action.  
“Decimus, Ortelloth, Racer and Erigor, you will be with me. Everyone here has a part, see the group leaders, listed first, for the specific assignments. May you walk always in the shadow of Sithis.”  
The group below me, before breaking up, mumbles “Sithis guide us.” and turns into the little groups that are meant to help enact this plan.

“Decimus, you take the lower levels, I want you to release any and all prisoners, cause as much chaos as you can. Ortelloth, distract as many city guards as possible, start fires, burn bridges, do whatever, but don’t let them catch you, or even see you.” I say, leaning over the plan on the table before me. The rest of my team is beside me, learning their specific jobs.  
“Racer and Erigor, if any of the Wizard council should come, or any wizards at all, you will take care of them. Kill them, knock them unconscious, eviscerate them, I don’t care, but don’t let them warn anyone else.”  
All of them nod, and no one smiles, knowing my sinister plan is not exactly going to be reversible in the event we fail.  
We won’t. (5)

It’s nightfall, in Fiore. Noctus is stationed outside Fairy Tail, Nightshade staking out Saber Tooth, Fukuro on watch with Raven Tail, Cobra looking after Lamia Scale, Midnight with a powerful dark guild that has something to do with revenge, and Rustyrose nearby to help me here- after taking down Blue Pegasus, of course- I want to do some designer work later, on my new palace.  
I lick my lips, thinking about biting into the neck of the Princess Hisui, and taking her blood, just enough for her father to feel threatened.  
It brings such a smile to my face. A demented, twisted smile, but a smile, nonetheless.  
Speaking telepathically, I call out to my team to start.  
“It’s time for the light to become dark.”  
The palace is swarming with guards, but with two summons of Storm Thralls, they’re gone, most dead. I kneel by one surviving guard, only superficially wounded, and pull out a needle, testing the point and jamming it into his forearm, injecting some of it’s content into him. His eyes turn red, then black for a moment, then fade normally, making him pass out.  
I smile- the tests were most certainly a success.  
Magical armor glinting on my skin, I pull out my best weapons, Spellbreaker and a Daedric enchanted sword, wading into the combat while the battle’s sounds roar around my eardrums. Once more, I smile.  
The smell of blood and the screams all reach me through my helmet, and I laugh hysterically as the guards’ fear and terror is evident on their faces. So easy to terrify, to make them afraid. I’ll send their souls to Sithis.  
The first level is easy, letting me work back into my warrior’s grove, baring my fangs and gritting my teeth when the soldiers land a good blow on my person, before knocking them back with either a shield bash or a single word. It sounds like a storm in here, courtesy of my atronachs and the calamity that I’m making without worry.  
Everyone here is trapped, exits sealed, and with nowhere to go.  
Coming together perfectly.  
The elite ones now, from the King’s personal honor guard, are coming at me now, and it slows me down a bit. Not much, in the grand scheme of things, but it doesn’t matter.  
Most people, right now, should be blissfully unaware that their ruler is about to become a puppet of mine, someone easily controlled and held under threat. He’ll do anything to protect his daughter- and once I have control over his daughter, that threat is complete.  
“FUS RO DAH!” I Shout, sending the guards back and knocking most unconscious, or at least, dazed. I sidle up to them, taking out more needles filled with the liquid that allows me to control them remotely and eagerly, injecting them one by one and opening their eyelids to make sure that it’s taking hold. The elites here are now mine, or close enough.  
One more doorway, and I’m in the King’s private chambers, gaudy and dripping with wealth from every angle. The two terrified royals stand together, hugging each other close, while cowering behind a wall of guards, with weapons drawn.  
I smirk, and dive into the next battle.

The last soldier is down, and I reanimate two of the more unfortunate ones that foolishly attacked me first, instructing them to knock the royals out. I would like to do this interrogation of sorts here, of course, but I wish to get these elites together while I can, giving them the Dark Light injection. With that taken care of, I throw off the bodies of the reanimated elites before they have a chance to disintegrate on the floor. It’s hard to clean up.  
“Now, then. Time for business.” I smile nastily to myself, pulling out the syringe and flicking the tip to make sure that it was adequate. The steel glints in the light, making my plan seem more sinister than it is- and it’s already fairly sinister. (6)  
The princess, Hisui, is first, and I get close to her, stepping over the bodies with a grace and practice that I haven’t employed in quite a while. It feels good to reinstate its service once more.  
She murmurs a bit in her unconsciousness, and I smile like a girl named Kessie smiles- creepy, with very real, very cruel amusement hidden behind it. It’s a lovely smile.  
The syringe slides into her body as easily as ever, and I gently raise her eyelid to see the blackness start and recede.  
It shouldn’t do that so quickly. I frown, and pull out another, sliding it in directly after the other, which had emptied its contents into her bloodstream. Her eyes flow with black, and a little tint remains behind- only enough for one to tell with very good eyesight. Even then, it’s slight.  
Too much, perhaps? We shall see. It doesn’t matter- the king wouldn’t dare question me.  
As I think this and smirk, Princess Hisui’s expression changes, from one of horror, extremely briefly, to one of joy and serenity, complete with a tiny smile.  
I go around to the other guards, to make sure the elite guard is officially mine, and only mine, making their bodies and minds mine to command and control without question. This gives me more than enough joy to light up my face.  
My business with the guards done, I walk swiftly back over to the king, shaking him roughly, but not touching Hisui.  
“Wake up.” I snap at him, and finally, his eyes flutter open, then he panics momentarily, his brain grappling with the idea that his elite guard, the ones trusted with protecting him, his daughter, and his kingdom, are down and out, and he’s as vulnerable as a kitten.  
Sadly, I like kittens.  
“You are the king of Fiore.” I state, and he nods yes, terrified to not answer a question that wasn’t one.  
“You are the person that does things haphazardly with the government.” he nods again, and I sigh.  
“And you are the one who is so easily manipulated into hunting down my Family.” he hesitantly nods, with much less enthusiasm.  
“Brilliant. I want something from you.”  
“Why should I give it to you?”  
“You want a reason? I assume you love your daughter; most fathers do. With the grace of a panther and the ease of watching a feather flutter in the breeze, I can do the same to your daughter as I did with your guards, but much, much more lethal. Do you honestly want that for her?” I ask, indicating his still-unconscious daughter.  
He stammers and stutters, finally shaking his head no. “I’ll do whatever you want.”  
“Wonderful. I want you to be a puppet. I will give you orders through either myself, or another member of my Family, and you will follow them, to the letter. Some may be open to creativity and new ideas. However, if you do something that even slightly displeases me, your daughter’s life will be forfeit. Do you understand?” I ask, my expression maniacal under my mask.  
“Y-yes. Just- just don’t hurt her. Please.” he asks of me, and I scoff at him.  
“You are now a man without power. Any move you make will be monitored, and every phrase you utter will be searched and sifted through for treasonous thinking, against me, my organization, and what we’re doing. Any hint that is evident here or there will be crushed, drained of content, and destroyed. You are nothing if not replaceable. Remember that.” I say, and promptly exit the door, striding from the room and waiting as I summon the infected to me, telling them to bring me a comrade, as many as they can find.  
I check the supply, strapped to my thigh, and sterilize the needle with a flame spell. The guards with the king and his daughter remain there, as I don’t need to or want to tip my hand yet.  
This is a fun game to play. I’ll be playing for quite a long time, yet.  
The men assemble in front of me, and I smile, as each of them has at least two unconscious individuals with him, more than doubling my sleeper force. Most of them have fresh wounds on the head, and I grin, looking them over. The syringes are sterile once more, and I stab them into the new recruits eagerly, ensuring their subordination and their compliance, their obedience and their loyalty. All of them are mine now.  
All mine, this is. All.

One more thing I wish to do is to view my new realm, so naturally, I climb to the highest room in the tallest tower to get a picture of this tiny island that was once my place of birth. A high honor for such a small country.  
The tower reflects in the moonlight, cold and harsh, yet beautiful and lovingly created and molded by some creature thousands of years ago. I remember when there were two moons, both sacred to the Khajiit. Their time, however, has passed long ago.  
I approach the balcony, thinking of one of my daughter’s favorite songs, about a spurned princess who controls the moon, and is always in her sister’s shadow. She finally overcomes her, and lets her dark night wash over the world she dwells in, and the world is cased in eternal shadow and moonlight.  
A fair place and a wonderful dream. I wonder if the Void looks like that.  
With no words but a few muttered, in gratitude, to the bright orb lighting up the sky, I leave the tower and move to the throne room, calling in Rustyrose.  
“I’d like this place to be appropriately decorated for it’s new Shadow Empress. After this, I would like you to visit as many palaces and mansions as you can and update them like this. The Dark Brotherhood is no longer in shadow, and will rule this land, forever.”  
He smiles at this, and moves off to complete my wishes. After this, he’ll be promoted to the Overseer of new relations. I believe his past will be beneficial to his involvement and dealings with our new friends.  
I smile sinisterly, and exit the palace of my last base of power, the rest, all on Tamriel, are already within my might.  
It’s good to be the Empress.

I’m lounging on my new throne, taking in the wonders of my new realm, and I laugh, high and loud and sharp, thinking how easily it worked, my plan, this realm! It’s mine. All mine.  
The Dark Brotherhood has gained such a foothold, it’d be criminal not to reward each and every one of them.  
I clap my hands in delight, and reach into myself, calling up ebony and rubies from my pack, hewn from a spell I created to turn the afflicted one’s blood into rubies, thousands of them, cascading out of them when you make a slash. Diamonds, bathed and sanctified in blood from the weak and the pitiful, a tribute to Molag Bal, and sewn together with scales of dragons, sliced so thin you can see through them, to better view the gems. All of these elements combine into a crown, covering my nose and depicting a dragon clearly there, while the rest function as part protection and part show. My ears are on display, holding up piercings of jewels and gems with pure silver and gold strung together. The crown is more of a circlet, and I smile when it settles on me, glad to release the heat spell that I had to maintain to keep in until I wished it like it is now. The metal cools suddenly when put in contact with my skin, and I realize that I haven’t eaten in days in preparation for this.  
I know the perfect target.

My fangs flash out, pearly white, and I feel as though my skin is translucent, creeping up to the now sleeping king, the moonlight radiating into the grand room and making me reflect myself across the chamber. I dip slowly to his side, and move his hair out of the way, before taking a delicate bite of the royal and sucking it out. It feels like the blood are modified, like diamond blood, and it bites back at me, burning my throat, stinging my eyes like always.  
I finish my drink, almost coughing and sputtering like an idiot, but I do not, for fear of waking the sleeper.  
My hands, in front of my face, flush with color, back from their translucent state a few seconds ago, this time, now with his blood in me. I tremble a bit, startle at my own weakness, and exit the room, walking through the halls as if I own the place, although this is a facade, something so cheap and fake that I expect the first person I see to yell at me, scaring me out of my palace now.  
I haven’t been able to enjoy blood, my only sustenance, since…. since almost sixteen years ago.  
My eyes close as my fists clench and I hope to Sithis no one is around to watch the newest leader of the country, albeit from the shadows, cry and empty her soul of her feelings, so that she may start afresh on the morrow.  
No one does. It makes me cry more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1- Perhaps I can convince Sithis to grant him the power of becoming a specter, like Lucien and Cicero.  
> 2- Mine is to my feet, and a little more. I never cut it as a child- there were no scissors in High Hrothgar, for good reason. Someone might lose control of their Voice and accidentally send it flying across the room, hurting, or even killing, another Greybeard. So, no sharp objects. Ever.  
> 3- Her eyes are practically the only way she looks like her father, besides her hair, and she hates them for it, wanting to be like me instead. A cold blooded murderer, and that's the way she likes it. I have no qualms against it.  
> 4- It resurged as... the events of a decade and a half ago occurred. My thinking that it was gone was.... false.  
> 5- Red swathes over my vision, and I see the bodies of my comrades, broken and bloody, most dead, lifeless with their armor torn, ripped, legions of guards dead around them, but it's apparent that they were overwhelmed. Magic can only do so much. I shake it off before it affects my judgement.  
> 6- No telling now, not now. It's no fun with spoilers. You'll have to wait and see.


	2. Hierarchies and Guilds Challenged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter's song is A New Moon by the DashDub.  
> I'll be updating every two weeks to fit it in together, have fun!

~Luna Laila’s POV~  
Listener wishes to assign me to a different guild, but I switched with Noctus. Who in Nirn doesn’t want the chance to get even? Hopefully, he’s there. I just hope that she doesn’t know, mother’s so protective of me, it’s almost ridiculous. It would be, except for the fact that we’re practically all the other has, and it’s not exactly the most fun to be alone in a Family, exclusive because your mother is the Listener, the most revered and honored person in our extensive Family.  
I sigh, waiting for nightfall. She wanted a synchronized attack, leaving no guild about to respond to other’s distress signals. The lacrima around the building are set up, blocking any signal that might be trying to get through on either side. They’ll likely just dismiss it as what it is- something blocking the signal. It happens all the time, thanks to our interference and the Grand Magic Games, which, of course, we’ll be participating in this year. Not mother, of course, although she could, technically, but she doesn’t want to. She will let me, though, as I practically begged her for it all last month, when the announcement happened that it would take place next week, five from the announcement.  
She caved easily. I’m her only daughter, after all.  
The signal comes through for me, and I laugh shortly, quickly, and pull on my mask and summon up my siblings, two from the past that is beyond me, but not my mother. I have a Daedroth on standby, if I need it, and enough offensive spells to destroy this place- no, to level it.  
My grin threatens to escape into a laugh, and my armor goes up, flaring around my body with purple magic, and the Helpers, as I call them, resonate with their combined magic.  
The armor’s wicked, with a visor over my eyes and the cloth under that, covering them fully, with my mask secure over my nose and mouth. It’s a bit difficult to breath in, but you get used to it after practically living in it since birth. The boots and gauntlets are spiky, made of solid, enchanted ebony, muffling my steps and giving me an advantage in nearly every combat situation with a boost to my armor skills and one handed weapons, although it’s mostly for my daggers, both of which are at my side.  
My hair’s in a ponytail, flowing freely in the breeze, and with a click of my tongue, metal ascends from my visor, forming a helmet and covering every single strand of my hair with a protective coating. It’s actually very unwise to have long hair in battle situations, so that’s why I make a potential weakness into a weapon. Hit with my hair in its armor, you’re going to be down for the count.  
The body of my lovingly hand-crafted armor set is jet black, non-reflective, and is as light as air to me, but also enhances my speed and stealth skills. I almost wanted to borrow my mother’s Ebony Mail, but I doubt she’d approve or let me. Besides, Boethiah would’ve wanted me to kill mother for the honor of wearing it. A cloak, black on the outside and red on the inside, covers my frame completely, except for my head.  
All in all, I’m ready. But is this guild?  
This, Fairy Tail?  
I think not.

I walk through the doors, which were silent until now, and find a calm guild, at least, calm after days of fighting. My sensory magic detects several things of interest here. A burly blond man being bandaged up by a petite busty blonde girl, who’s chiding him while he’s looking around grumpily. Two of them are still wrestling, one with blue-black hair and another with strawberry blond hair, both barely old enough to know any magic. Two older males sit together, talking, before shouting and then getting into a fight. Their parents?  
My quizzical expression is hidden completely, and I don’t give any indication of anything out of the ordinary. A midget, however, spies me, and my senses almost recoil in shock at how strong he is. Come to think of it, so was the blond couple. There are several more hot spots, but those are the strongest, almost blinding me until I hear him talking.  
“Welcome to Fairy Tail! What can I help you with? Do you need anything?” he says, coming up to me smiling.  
I reply, “Yes…”  
“Well, what can I help you to do?” he responds, looking at me with a strange expression on his face.  
“Wait… you remind me of….”  
He doesn’t get the chance to say who before my magic whips out of control, sending him twenty feet up, through the roof, and slamming him down again. A tentacle grows almost uncontrollably, and grabs onto as many members as it can, breaking the roof like that old tale with a boy named jack and something like a goose or a hen or something. I’m not sure, and the battle is on, so I don’t have time to spare thinking about it.  
The two blondes spring into battle, and my senses dull slightly when they come near, although I can tell there are now two more than there should be in this guild hall when this began.  
Familiar battle noises sound out when I call out my siblings, and they take down the ones that weren’t here before in a flash, sending them back to wherever they came from, then starting on the next ones to attack.  
Interestingly enough, they don’t even attempt to talk to me, and easily, they push me, so I push back. Harder.  
‘You must be able to push the world harder than it can push back.’ my mother’s voice resonates in my ears, telling me advice about my power, and I grin, ripping off my mask and moving them away from me, not with the power of the Voice, but with my own magic, working against them and pushing them harder, much harder, than ever before.  
“Unbelievable,” someone breathes, and I don’t even hesitate before sending a dagger towards them, hearing it hit my target and the inevitable escape of breath in surprise. They’ll be dead in a few minutes, hopefully.  
One of the men scream at me, calling out, “Karyū no Hōkō!”  
I feel the power behind it, yes, the heat, and I respond by slamming my body into him after running at him for a small amount of time.  
“I curse you with the power of the soundless!” I shout out, bringing out two long needles, almost daggers with the same level of sharpness, and strike him with them, right in his ears, leaving them there.  
I land and let my cloak fall off my shoulders, singed, but wearable. However, I don’t want to have this on me while fighting off any entire guild, one that’s quite hard to defeat, being in the running for the Grand Magic Games for all of the years I’ve been alive, and even before that.  
People gasp as they look at me, and I smirk, getting into my element, first fending off the attackers of the guild members and the killing the ones pinned down by my tentacles that I summoned with a flick of my wrist and the barest sound coming from them. The Dragon Slayers are quickly put out of commission by me, with the stunt I pulled with the Fire one easy to do again, and again, and again, from different angles. I almost think that Fukuro would have had an easier time wrapping up this guild.  
Erza Scarlet’s voice cuts through the rabble, ordering silence and calm, the guild respecting her while she requips into some armor that is probably very slutty- I’ve heard about her choice in attire- and not nearly as protective as my own, with some weapon at her side that she thinks will kill me, or at least defeat me.  
“We have done you no wrong. Cease this immediately!” she cries out, voice strangled at her anger inside her, at me, for attacking her comrades.  
“Oh, but you have done something to me. Something absolutely horrible. Do you know what that is?” I hiss at them, getting my magic gathered in one fist so I can slam it into my main adversary.  
None of them respond, and my two guardians, still with me, let me know through our bonds that they’re looking around the hall, mostly at each other.  
“You took my father.” I whisper, and move towards the figurehead of the guild, slamming my right fist into her and sending her flying away from me, her body being enveloped in tentacles thanks to my magic, and the blessing from Hermaeus Mora.  
“You insolent, little children, couldn’t handle when one of your own went off!” I whisper, getting this rage out of my system by hitting as many guild members of this stupid, putrid guild as possible.  
Out goes some people, crashing through the supports, and I smile, until I’m hit with something that feels like a train.  
“MOOOOOO!”  
“What in the name of Sithis?” I mumble, and feel around with my sensory magic, finding a Celestial spirit, Taurus, out in the guild now. How did I not feel the presence of Celestial magic beforehand?  
I take out some new magic, instead of the tentacles, because they seem to be avoiding them now, and throw it down, listening to the sweet sound of a typhoon coming into the building.  
Most people are swept away, except for several, and one of them chooses to try to drown me in her own body.  
“HOW DARE YOU ATTEMPT TO HURT MY GRAY-SAMA!” she shouts out, and the water, where it touches my skin, is boiling hot, burning me.  
“Lightning Strikes Before The Thunder!” I cry out (7), and she’s paralyzed by the resounding electrical output that stuns her. I smirk as I get out of her hold, and encase her in tentacles, not before punching her into the wall of ice next to us, probably formed to keep me from getting away.  
With no more contenders stepping up to fight me, I take out yet another spell, and with the water left over from the typhoon and the rain woman, I freeze it, bringing over more and more from the outside, freezing it as well, and everyone in it.  
I pull back my fist one final time, and push the world harder than it pushes back.  
Two guardians at my side, I leave the town, the destroyed remnants of the guild the only reminder that I’ve been there.  
That reminds me….. I summon my cloak again, wrapping it around my body securely, and buy a ticket out of this hellhole of a town.

Listener's POV

I smile, looking upon my newest domain, finally conquered like the coward it is, yielding to my dominance.  
"Hello, there, my Champion," says a voice behind me, and I turn, drawing in an appreciative look at the figure approaching me.  
Ever since the night of... Then, I took to talking to Molag Bal more than ever, even helping him find a way into the mortal realm. If anyone has a claim on my soul besides Sithis, it is most definitely him.  
His power crackles in the air beside him, and his eyes glint with amusement. Horns, jet black and proud, sprout from his hair, a red black, sleeked back and neat. A crisp black outfit fits his form admirably, and his fingernails are black, perfectly trimmed and gleaming.  
"Hello to you too," I reply, not taking my eyes off him. I might be his champion, but it can be a shaky position.  
“I have been thinking about your newfound power…” he trails off, coming close and leaning over the balcony with both hands firmly on it, surveying the landscape.  
“And?” I reply, my mouth dry, but I dare not show weakness in front of him.  
He grins over at me, and in a second, he moves, trapping my body between him and the railing.  
“I do like your dominative streak, but, I think it would look better on me.” The Daedric Prince growls out, licking his lips eagerly. He sighs, however, and lets up, knowing that I wouldn't let him, and although that itself wouldn't stop him, he knows about the Mates. It's not something he likes interfering with. It can get... Messy.  
"Do continue your work, Champion. I'm looking forward to it."  
He disappears slowly, only his eyes lingering, then vanishing completely after a few more moments.  
A silent sigh of relief is let out, and I look back at the land, now nearing sunrise. I hiss in pain at the natural light, and dramatically leave the balcony, cloak flaring out behind me.

“Decimus, status report.” I call out as I enter the Sanctuary, our most secure location, with six Black Doors and a highly advanced weapons system, powered by lacrima and a rotating roster of eagle-eyed mages.  
The man in question looks up, and smiles softly at me. His crows feet wrinkle his eyes, and it warms my heart much more than I thought possible by that sight. He hasn’t smiled like that at me in a long time.  
“The attacks were successful, one hundred percent. We’re now the seat of the government on this isle, and the coups elsewhere have been just as successful, except for High Rock, which had to kill the reigning king, but he has a son who has been injected with the serum. It’s working and we have remote control over him as of two hours ago.”  
I sigh with relief, glad it all went smoothly. I haven’t planned something this big since I had to assassinate the last reigning Emperor of Tamriel, three dynasties after the Medes. All of them were quite horrible, and none were very honorable. I did like Titus…. he was so respectful of our positions.  
“Wonderful. Thank you for your help, Decimus. Could you distribute the rewards to everyone in the Black Hand, and the bonuses for all those who participated?”  
He nods, and his eyes light up again when he catches the eyes of someone behind me. In a second, he’s out running to greet the monstrously sized male, and I smile sweetly as I watch the normal man embrace his behemoth of a partner, Fukuro.  
I love them together. They’re so sweet, it’s almost sickening, but in a purely good way. Like you’ve eaten too much sugar, but not enough to throw up.  
“You’re okay!” Decimus squeaks out, and immediately blushes while lowering his voice. I chuckle under my breath at their antics, while Fukuro tilts up his lover’s head with his massive hand and taps him on the nose with his beak. The two are too adorable.  
Nothing halts their little love fest until Noctus and Nightshade come in, and I feel some tension leave my muscles as I see them enter the Sanctuary.  
Noctus, however, speaks first, while Nightshade is, like me, caught up in the boys’ PDA, thinking it as cute as I do, and I know that Noctus wishes to do so too. (8)  
“Listener, may I speak to you? In private?” she asks, standing close to me and whispering so as to not alert Nightshade.  
“Of course, Noctus. This way,” I speak, and motion towards a small room where we won’t be disturbed, at least for a little while.  
“What is it you wished to speak to me about?” I question, sitting down on top of a barrel. It’s a storeroom, rather small for our usual stockpiles. I have them arranged every place we have, in case of siege.  
“Nightshade…. went over my head, and disobeyed your direct order. I couldn’t talk her out of it, but she… she went after the Fairy Tail guild. She tricked me into taking the wrong teleportation lacrima, and she took the train to the town to avoid being caught by the safety nets you installed. I am sorry, Listener.” she says, regretful.  
I nod silently, and stand up. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’m grateful for your loyalty, and, you will be doubly rewarded for bringing this to me. You are a good sister.”  
She nods once, and walks out, although I see the spring in her step that tells me she’s pleased. She’s done her duty, and done it well.  
I step out of the room, curtly shutting the door, and walking right past the woman in question, grabbing her hood and dragging her away from the ongoing affection battle between Fukuro and Decimus.  
Too much.

~~  
“What happens when you disobey a superior?”  
“You risk incurring the wrath of Sithis.” she responded, and I smiled sweetly at her, ruffling her hair affectionately.  
“Good.”  
~~

“I wanted revenge. Is that so much to ask?” Nightshade states, looking at me.  
“When you risk your life and the mess with the ones who actually had the assignment, yes, it is!” I sigh, massaging my forehead with one hand.  
“You wanted it as much as I did.”  
“No, Nightshade, I did not. You are supposed to follow your leader.”  
“Which is you.”  
“Your superior was Noctus. You disobeyed her order, and mine. I’m sorry, but you have earned the Wrath of Sithis.” I say, and her eyes grow wide, panic flaring up.  
“Wha-”  
I hold up a hand, stemming her flow of protests before they start. “This is the order of things. You are confined to your room for the next week, until His Wrath is upon you and you have either survived, or died.”  
I left the room, escorting her to her room, letting her inside and then barring the door and locking it doubly.  
“Orion, please guard Nightshade’s door.” I call to him, once I finish locking it and checking to see she is still inside.  
The man obeys, a longbow and a magic sniper rifle strung across his back with a pouch for bullets and a quiver. He is a master marksman, and made a name doing public kills from over a mile away until we recruited him.  
He is the best shot we have, especially with the guns. No one better.  
She’ll make it out alive, though. I know she will.

In my office, I find a calming canis root tea, which can only mean one thing. Neloth has something for me.  
His newest apprentice, Nanaia, is a bright girl, and is one of the best makers of canis root tea I’ve ever met, but Neloth always finds fault in her, probably due to the fact that she has a hard time understanding him when he goes off on his rants. She can follow them to a certain extent, but not even I can completely understand them. I get the gist, but she gets a lot more. Magical theory is her thing.  
Anyway, she’s standing nervously by my desk, uncomfortable with being here when she could be doing research, and I have to suppress a sigh. Neloth’s not the best teacher when it comes to interacting with people on a good level, or even a level that’s totally correct.  
Neloth’s in a chair by the fire, with a scowl on his face as he stares into the flames. I let out the sigh, accepting the canis root tea and going to sit by him.  
“So, Neloth, what are you thinking about this time?” I question him, blowing on my tea to cool it.  
“You. Do you know this is the largest risk you’ve ever taken?”  
I smirk. “Tell me something I don’t know.”  
“There’s a magical field directly connected to you that arches over this land and back to the tether.” piped up Nanaia, who quickly shut her mouth when Neloth flicked his hand at her in an annoyed fashion. I smiled at the girl, letting her know she could relax.  
Neloth had that look on his face that he had when he knew he had to phrase his words carefully. He may be an ancient Telvanni wizard, older than me, but he knows I wouldn’t hesitate to kill him beyond a few fractions of a second. (9)  
“I am… concerned for your state of mind, Listener. It’s not exactly what totally sane people do when they try to conquer every land on a continent, let alone rule them from a shadow government while running numerous operations including thievery, drug trafficking, murder, and a protection racket. You are usually much more careful than this.”  
I smile a bit as I sip my tea. “Nanaia, would you mind stepping out for a bit? I’d like to talk to Neloth alone.”  
She startles at that, but complies with a single nod of her head, swiftly exiting the room.  
I set down my tea, and then turn to Neloth.  
“With all due respect, Neloth, I’m a little desperate. I know what you said is true; I can’t and won’t deny it, mainly because it is one hundred percent true. This does, however, have a purpose. With one fell swoop, I’ve brought the people of this world liberation from their governments, and their corrupt forms of living. I’m a hero to the people who had no voice.”  
“Yes, but now you have almost absolute control over everywhere.”  
“And power corrupts, doesn’t it? Neloth, I’ve been around for hundreds of thousands of years; I know that. I have seen so many things while you’ve been locked up in your own little world, going through apprentice after apprentice in a vain attempt to study something else, something new, and make a difference. I know what your spells for the last decade and a half have been trying to do to me; you wish to return me to my innocent state of mind where I knew right and wrong clearly, where everything else was perfectly fine in black and white, but who we knew was wrong seemed right, and who was right seemed wrong. Frankly, Neloth, if I had any more good left in me, I wouldn’t have done this.”  
The Dunmer looks at me, and sighs. “You’ve gone too long without contact.”  
I slump back in my chair, staring into the fire. “I’m going insane, Neloth, and this was the only way I could assure both the Black Hand’s position in the future, or the fact that he’ll come back to me.”  
“And you doubt the latter?”  
I chuckle, gazing at my companion. “Of course I do. Why do you think I destroyed his guild especially? If I didn’t, he wouldn’t try anything. Now he has a motive. And he’ll either die, or be restored to me.”  
“You act as if he is your possession.” Neloth observes, and returns my gaze.  
“For all intents and purposes, Neloth, right now, he pretty much is. You’ll understand when you find your own Mate. Speaking of which, here.” I hand Neloth the chest that we opened together, Bickslow and I, all those years ago. My mood turns nostalgic, but I quickly shake it off. “Do you have anything else you want to talk about?”  
“No, that was it.” he says, no longer looking at me or the fire, but at the miniaturized chest on his lap, so precious it holds the fate of him and his mate in his hands, literally.  
I nod, but don’t get up, not moving at all but to breath, just gazing into the warm fire that is burning hot as dragonfire, but I can barely feel it.  
I can’t feel anything anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (7)- Sound magic is incredibly useful- keywords can start a chain reaction.  
> (8)- She locked them in a closet once for 3 days together, alone, to try and get them together. It worked, eventually, because the two got extremely close, after they almost killed her for doing that, but they did get together. Everyone was very pleased, especially since it decreased the sexual tension in here. It gets rather thick sometimes, being as close as family.  
> (9)- I've come very close on several occasions. It's dangerous to piss me off- even more so if you have a history of doing so.


	3. Getting What's Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Monster by Skillet.

I walk to the room that held Nightshade, and my eyes widen at the turmoil held there.  
Orion is unconscious, probably barely alive, and the door behind him is blown to bits. A wraith’s shroud is on the floor, so I assume that she defeated it, but more to it is the fact that there’s no trace of her, besides this carnage.  
Kneeling, I heal Orion with a spell, making his wounds disappear and his breathing to ease. He’s okay, a bit winded and he’s unconscious, but otherwise okay.  
I stand, looking at the wreckage and then kick some of it.  
“Nightshade….” I growl out, and kneel again to pick up Orion. He’ll be more comfortable in the infirmary and it’ll make me feel better about it.  
There’s nothing left of the scene anyway. (10)

I’d be worried, but I know that any person in our Family can handle themselves. The assassin’s trade is not embarked upon lightly, nor is it survived long by the unskilled and stupid.  
My thoughts are rebounding around in my head, making it hard to think clearly, but it’s better this way right now. I want to be lost in this fog for a while.  
My feet carry me back from the Sanctuary to the road, and my head is surrounded by clouds in the same way my body is surrounded by nature. It’s relaxing me, forcing me to calm down.  
There was nothing I could do. I cannot overlook something as erroneous as a breach in the tenets- only a Silencer or above may break them, to retain order. It’s for the sanctity of the Purification or the rooting out of a traitor.  
Our brand of justice is not keeping with these weaker governments. We are the Black Hand, and our justice is as swift as an assassin’s blade and as unpleasant as we want it. We need to have the tenets for our organization; without them, there would be nothing protecting us. The Tenets have guided us for centuries, and just because they seem dated does not make it so they are unapplicable, or unuseful.  
This world now, it does not understand discipline. It cannot understand order without the discipline.  
As I walk back towards civilization, my head is not as right as it should be, but it doesn’t matter now. If I had a plan, it’d be in motion, already yielding me the results that I wished for it.  
Too bad I didn’t. (11)

Out of the woods and into civilization once more, I travel to the Imperial City on Arvak, and watch the looks on the faces of the people there as I don’t even dismount before heading in, continuing on the flaming skeletal horse from another realm.  
The guards almost want to tell me to, but there’s no rule against it. Even if there was, though, it wouldn’t matter. I run the world now. They are puppets, unhelpful little puppets that hope to achieve something that they cannot. (12)  
I walk Arvak towards the palace, dismounting before it and watching the crowds awe-filled faces as he disappeared and the guards saluted me. With a smirk on my face that is covered by my mask, I enter the palace and get to work.

Up on the top floors, I find a messenger waiting for me, and I smile at the thought of killing him for fun. It’s dismissed almost immediately- cover ups are expensive and the cost of replacing him would be higher than I want to pay. People who trust me without question are hard to come by and harder to keep.  
“Here’s a letter from Nightshade.” the man leaves, an exemplary courier. Immediately I break the magical seal, and shield my eyes from the flash of light that accompanies it.  
Instead of being alone as I was, there are now members of Fairy Tail all around me, charging up spells and letting them go, right at me as I sigh in annoyance at my daughter’s mistake.  
The blast obliterates my office, making me glad that nothing of interest had been moved there yet. It would’ve happened the next day had they not just destroyed the place that had the best view. (13)  
I’m stunned, and at the orders of Laxus, I believe, I’m bound with chains made by Gajeel, the Iron Dragon Slayer, and with a few punches I’m out like a light. Even I’m not immune to that.

I come to in a wonderful little cage, surrounded by security forces with burning spells just waiting to be released. Outside the iron cage is a very, very angry Dragon Slayer, named Natsu Dragneel. Beside him is his Mate, Lisanna, who is both crying her eyes out and glaring at me. To their right is a more reasonable couple, Laxus and Lucy, both twice as formidable as they were when I had Bickslow as my apprentice.  
Finding a Dragon Slayer’s Mate does that to the couple. (14)  
I smile at them, knowing that my mask has been ripped off and my face is fully on display. “Why, what a charming little hobble you have here! Did you do this yourselves?”  
I shouldn’t aggravate them.  
“YOU MONSTER!” shouts Natsu, flying at the cage and wrapping his hands around the bars, shaking it. His face is twisted, as if he would love nothing more than to kill me by wrapping his hands around my neck and wringing it like you would a chicken’s.  
I smile, and stand up, looking at him, getting close as I can, until only the bars separate us. Then I open my mouth and hiss, letting my fangs surge out and dragon tongue to surprise the hell out of him.  
“Don’t aggravate me, you brat.” I say, chuckling as I watch him get angrier.  
“I’LL KILL YOU!” he shouts, before Lisanna falls to her knees beside him, sobbing into her hands as I watch with a smile on my face.  
“Try.” I whisper, and then Laxus steps in.  
“Enough. I want answers.” he demands, and I laugh, moving off to the lone window, also barred, and sit on the ledge there.  
“Answers? You want answers? What kind? I want them too, you know, but they’ve probably been inside my head the whole time.”  
Lucy’s brow furrows, and she looks at me while Laxus growls and moves in closer. “What did you do to Bickslow all those years ago?”  
“I saved him. My turn. Why did you capture me?”  
“That’s not how it works. You answer our questions, you don’t get to ask them.” he growls, low in his throat.  
I chuckle again. “That might be enough to scare any other person here, but not me. I’ve gone up against enemies that make you look like nothing but an overrated outlaw.”  
Lucy hasn’t moved, but does look concerned. Laxus just looks at me, his teeth bared, and he smirks, finally. “We can just kill you, you know.”  
“You can’t. First of all, you’d have to get into this cage with me, and I’d kill you before you could release a single spell. Secondly, I have too many contingency plans in place. If I die, the economy crashes, thieves will loot everything they wish, my assassins will roam the streets looking for my killers, and if the dragon comes back, this world, will end.”  
Laxus and Lucy are walking towards the exit, him dismissing me as a minor threat now that I’m restrained and locked up. Lisanna and Natsu are ahead of them, hobbling down the hallway already.  
“Did I mention that Bickslow will eventually go insane? If he’s not already of course; it is affecting me much more than him, I’d imagine.” the walking of the pair stops, and immediately they’re back at my cage.  
“What do you mean?”  
“You have no manners, Laxus. Lucy, will you answer the question I asked your Mate? That’d be much nicer than having to make either of you talk when you’re trying to breath through the sobs as you watch your Mate get torn apart and eviscerated and dissected.”  
The couple looks at me, horrified. I simply smile at them, my hands between my knees, up on the windowsill.  
Lucy takes in a breath, evenly, calmly, and responds. “We wanted to know about your plans, and what you want with Bickslow, as well as stopping you. Will you answer ours now?”  
I consider the request and the answer, finally inclining my head. “Yes, if you’re both civil. Could you repeat your question?”  
Lucy looks at Laxus, whose gaze only flickers back and forth, between us. He smiles at her, nodding his head a little. He trusts her.  
How nice. My gaze softens as I look at the couple, but I turn back to the outside before they notice. It’s an old tower, crumbling and weak, but still strong with supports. It dates back to the Third Era, I believe. I doubt they care about it’s history. A hundred battles have filled these walls, and a hundred prisoners or more have stayed where I am, right now.  
A prison. Befitting a royal monarch, but not one of the Dragon Blood, the Dovah Sos.  
I am part God, after all.  
Lucy’s voice chimes in over my thoughts. “What did you mean about Bickslow going insane?”  
“It happens, when Dragon Slayers don’t claim their Mates quickly enough. There have been rampages by those that knew their Mates, but they could not bond to them, due to marriage or something else. Those that have dead ones, they are the worst off out of any who lose theirs somehow. Irrevocably, they go ever so slowly insane, an incurable process and quite horrifying if you know them. One day they seem perfectly fine, the next they jump you with a rusty butter knife and try to eat your intestines.”  
“Really?”  
“It’ll be worse for him, though. The process takes years, although with the power levels you have now, it’s quicker, and, keying in the vampire part,” I pause, making some quick calculations. “He’ll be completely insane in, oh, I’d say, a year or two.”  
“A year?” asks Laxus.  
I nod, smiling faintly. “Give or take a few weeks. Of course, he’ll survive, but he’ll be a shadow of himself, nothing but a shell. No life, until he dies. Not even magic can help that.”  
I pause, and then resume talking. “My turn. How did you find me?”  
“A woman named Nightshade heard us listening in the woods, approached us, and told us what to do. We didn’t see her, though.” answered Laxus, watching me.  
I stopped listening.  
‘Nightshade’  
‘Nightshade.’  
‘Nightshade.’

I let out a roar, breaking the chains binding my hands together and the shackles on my ankles, my Dragon Shout armor already forming on my body. I surprise Lucy and Laxus, who are thrown against the wall. Instantly, I summon Lucien and Cicero, who know my wishes and guide me in my rage, telling me what Sithis desires. I carve for Him the rock that shapes this tower, and at once the remaining people in here come up to try and get me under bars again.  
A Lightning beam hits the newcomers, and Lucien and Cicero quickly bring them to me, bound and gagged, unconscious and barely alive, letting me send them merrily to another pocket dimension, so I can retrieve them at a later time.  
This is going to be fun, I say to myself, until I believe it. The rock underneath my feet trembles at my touch, and my eyes begin to glow as I find my gear, wielding it almost automatically as I make a skull out of a tower and it’s garrisons. The dungeons are fine, and would make for a nice home. A public entrance, here, I think.  
Let’s make myself known as the ruler of this world.  
I laugh maniacally as the rock falls around me and my spectral companions, whose eyes have seen me at my worst and at my best, everywhere in between. However, this, I think, is when they, and everyone else, realized.  
I’m.  
Fucking.  
Crazy.  
Without my Mate.  
Let’s start the manhunt, shall we?

After the skull is formed and the rest of the fort that I could not shape has sunk beneath the earth, I rest upon a throne, looking down over the entrance where the teeth would be. I smile, looking over the people I’ve captured from Fairy Tail, the precious guild of Fiore, it’s poster child. I brought them out of the pocket dimension- if you leave alive things in there too long, they can go crazy from looking at nothing. It’s happened before. (15)  
The few that are conscious look at me with wide, fearful eyes, except for the more ferocious ones, but, thankfully, they’re unconscious. Most have wounds, or are covered with burns from Lightning spells.  
I smile once more, my mask hiding it, then it falters.  
Why did I do this?  
I want to answer myself in a calm, rational manner, but there is no calm way to talk about this, even with myself.  
I glare at Laxus, his slumped form enough to tell me he’s under and won’t be surfacing soon, but I don’t want anything resembling a battle going on in here, my newly remodeled space. What should I call it?  
Ah, yes. Templum.  
A true standing of my faith in the Night Mother and the Dread Father.  
I’d better get to work.  
“Cicero, Lucien, please watch the prisoners, and knock out the Dragon Slayers should they wake up.”  
The pair of spectral assassins nod, and I get off the throne, jumping off the banister of the new balcony and landing solidly on the floor of the newest fixture of my new world.  
I head under the overhanging balcony, and pull out the Blade of Woe, and my spells of Lightning and Blood Magic, infused. A little trick for carving out new places I want to imbue with Blood Magic.  
Let the new era begin.

After 45 minutes, I’ve exhausted my magicka, and carved out a special chamber for myself, as well as an underground sanctuary for sleep and food. A meeting hall with a stone table sits above it, black as night and practically exuding death. I’ll think about sacrificing someone on it later.  
I’ve finished, for now, and smile at my work, knowing I’ve been going at it like a fiend.  
Once I turn around, though, I’m hit by a force that’s not allowing me to go anywhere, or even stand up.  
Gravity magic.  
I wonder who it could be?  
I raise my head tentatively, stretching the bounds of my own magic, feeling for any cracks in the spellcasting. The overall weave of the spell is sound, a solid construction. Couldn’t do better myself.  
Which means, of course, that it’s only one person.  
My smile stretches across my face as I overpower the spell, breaking through it with sheer force of magicka (16), and standing up.  
“Well, Bickslow, I haven’t met you in quite some time.” I say, dusting myself off in a mocking fashion. “I’m sorry to say you didn’t greet me properly. We can amend that later.”  
Two screams rebound through the chamber, and I perk up. One of them is Cicero’s, one that’s of pain. The spectrality of him limits pain, but there is nothing that stops it completely. He’s being attacked.  
The second scream is… different.  
I hurry to climb the stairs, sprinting up them and finding Bickslow standing over the quickly dematerializing essence of Cicero.  
“Do you know how long that takes to clean up?” I growl, and power up spells in both hands. Thankfully, Lucien is still alive, and it looks like he moved the prisoners. Thank Sithis for my dear, deceased Brother.  
“Where are my guildmates?” he asks, his tone serious.  
I chuckle at him, still holding onto the spells. “You think I’m going to tell you?”  
“WHERE ARE THEY?” he yells, and I grimace under my mask. Ouch. (17)  
His puppets float out around his head, and they’re glowing with green power, while his hands are obviously holding onto some sort of different magic. Most likely, it’s destructive, hard to control, powerful, and deadly. It’s probably all true.  
“Why don’t we take this outside? I just carved this place.” I joke, and he growls again, the only indicator that he’s started to attack.  
His 5 original puppets form a Baryon formation, while the others (18) lay down cover fire. His hands, however, remain still, likely charging up power.  
I don’t move, but focus myself, accessing my natural power of Highborn, and when I open my eyes, they glow, through the darkness and through my mask, Konahrik. “You asked for this.”  
I send out a pulse, my arms weaving themselves into vessels for a complex incantation. “Nocte tempus impii surgit. Die exitus aeternum, numquam redire. Nocte regnat aeternum.”  
With my incantation, the whole light balance in the room surges, and a wave of black crashes out as soon as I’ve finished saying the spell. The spell is powerful, almost enough to kill me, but not quite. I’m on the ground, trying to stand up, staggering backwards and feeling the haze from my eyes disappear again as my eyesight returns to normal, the leaking magic from it that turned red fading.  
Bickslow is on the floor, his puppets fallen to the ground as the spell cut off his magic for the time being. He’s trapped in a shadow case, a power of the night. It’s very useful, of course, and even more so considering that it’s almost capable of killing me. My health is returning, of course, but I’m hesitant to do much right now.  
Luckily, Lucien has returned from the hiding place, handing me a spectral key to the astral plane he put them on. He normally would put them in the Void, but they aren’t victims, nor Brothers or Sisters, so it is inaccurate to do so there. It’s also much easier to do this without angering the Dread Father.  
I lean on the balcony of black ebony, and sigh, looking at the encased aura of my Mate.  
How did this happen?

I sigh as the newest Sanctuary, my height of power here in Fiore, retreats into the distance. My forces will use it at their discretion, with the highest security available and several Dark Guilds employed in keeping order and watch. They will be overseen, of course, by Rustyrose and Erigor, with Rustyrose travelling a lot in the near future.  
Lucien by my side, I conjure up Arvak and toss Bickslow’s shadow encased body on his back, in front of where I shall be sitting, and swinging up in almost the same heartbeat.  
The Spectral Assassin follows me, whispering with his deathly-still voice and making me relax with his familiarity. I brought along Bickslow’s dolls as well, thinking that... well. I did.  
My thoughts consume me as I travel from there to the Palace of Shadows, my newly redecorated seat of power here. It will do nicely for this.

Deep in the dungeons of my new palace in Fiore, I set down my Mate in one cell, a magically protective one, capable of containing an explosion the size of a dragon’s firepower. Considering that he doesn’t know Dragon Slayer magic or above that, I’d say it’s good. Even I’d have a hard time breaking out of there, although I do have a few tricks, of course.  
The rest of the Fairy Tail members are easily transported out of the dimension they were in back to this one. All are in a very deep state of unconscious, quite luckily. Being awake in a different dimension can drive people insane.  
Just in case, though, I place them in the cell adjacent, except for the Celestial Mage, Lucy. I don’t really want to harm her, mainly because the spirits in the Celestial World would eventually figure it out and get very angry with me, so If I can, I’ll avoid it. I doubt that Bickslow would let one of his guildmates be hurt anyway.  
With a deep breath, I summon up the words for the spell again, breaking the enchantment just by thinking about the phrase. It’s much easier to do so than to repeat the incantation the way it’s supposed to. (19)  
Groggily, he gets up, and I’m suddenly very glad that I still have his puppets with me. With the cell’s magic interfering with his own, he can’t use them, making him a lot weaker and a lot easier to convince to go along with my plan. (20)  
My Mate stands up, at once seeing me and leaping into an attack position, charging up spells. “What is going on here?”  
I smile, my mask hiding the lower portion of my face. I thought it best to leave Konahrik off for this part, so that he can see my eyes. They’re quite serious.  
“I’m here to make you a deal. Do you see the cell to your left? Your comrades are in there, all unconscious and easy prey for someone like me to kill them. Do you want that?”  
“Let them go!”  
“I said, do you want that?” I repeat myself, my eyes narrowing and glaring at my Mate.  
“Your feud is with me and me alone!” he roars, firing the spells at where I am, with his face shocked at how easily the magic disappears on the barrier.  
“ANSWER THE QUESTION!” I shout, the ground shaking as I slam my hand onto the bars of the cage, denting it a bit even though it’s good solid steel.  
Bickslow jumps like a kitten, and looks taken aback a bit. His eyebrows narrow, and he growls out, “No.”  
“Good. Then, if you don’t want this one to die, then you’ll obviously do as I say.”  
“What do you want me to do?” he asks, concern etched into his voice. (21)  
“It’s all very simple.”

“In exchange for their lives, you stay with me, in every building I want you to be with me, in my presence, as frequently as I want.” I state, searching him for any signs of discontent. I thought there would be more.  
He sighs through his nose, and thinks about it for a minute. All the while, I think about how I should really be holding a blade to Miss Lucy’s neck to convince him, slowly pressing down every second he spends indecisive.  
“Okay. I’ll do it.”  
I smile under my mask, but look at him incredulously. “I will, of course, need to make sure of this.”  
“You’re going to continue holding my friends here?” he asks, bristling with anger.  
“No, I’ll merely plant a device in them to help make sure that your decision is final. Because if you betray me, or do anything that I don’t allow, I’ll make sure to blow their pretty little brains all over wherever they are.” I say with gusto, and he practically seethes with barely restrained fury over my proposition.  
“As long as I behave, they won’t be harmed?”  
“Not a hair on their head will be touched by my people.” I promise, and he spends a tense moment deciding again, giving one short, curt nod to me.  
My smile reaches my eyes for a moment before I shut it down, and I pick up Miss Lucy from the ground, carrying her like a princess up the stairs.  
“Where are you going?”  
“To make sure you stick to your promise.” I chuckle as I ascend the stairs, his roars echoing after me.

One by one, I sent for the others down in the dungeons that were not my Mate, and implanted a tracking chip in them, letting me know their movements everywhere there was Ethernano, or Magicka. Using the inherent magic of the floating particles, I could effectively kill them by manipulating it into the tracker, absorbing enough magic that it would eventually kill them. Most likely, they’d have to use all their magic simultaneously, on repeat, every second for it to not kill them. Even if it doesn’t quite do so, they’d be effectively brain dead. The device can transmit Ethernano particles directly to the brain and cause a cascade failure, so to speak, in their nervous system, allowing for minimal brain activity. They’d still be alive, but they’d just be a shell of who they were. It would be easier just to kill them, and much less cruel.  
At last, the Fairy Tail Team that captured me previously is all but pacified, still unawakened, and I may go collect my prize.  
“There.” I say, hitting a button with my knuckles that releases both the cage door and the barrier.  
“I wish to say goodbye to my friends.” He says, not looking at me directly, and not moving from where he stood before.  
Just gazing at him, I know it would be best for him to do so. “Very well. They’re this way.” I turn around, leading him up the stairs and I hear his hesitant first steps out of the cell. (22)(23)  
I know he knows that he is stepping out, freeing his friends, but trapping himself. It’s a big thing to do.  
A piece of my heart twinges because of this. Whether it’s because of the fact that my Mate just did something heroic, I did something horrible, or the simple relief that soon I won’t have to wonder whether I’m truly crazy or not. It’ll just be me and my thoughts in my head.  
My guilt-ridden thoughts. Great.  
Since when did I have feelings?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10- Another wave of red vision occurs, though; this time it's Nightshade dead, with Orion standing over her body, panting, his eyes black, his self possessed, out of control. He smiles at me and says, "She suffered for her sins, and fell at the hands of the Wrath of Sithis." It fades away after a blink of my eyelids.  
> 11- Not entirely true, but definitely at least part true. The indisputable truth of the matter was that I had something in my brain, but not sure if it was a good plan or something that just appeared there and wouldn't let go.  
> 12- Even if they wanted a revolution to be rid of me, it would be futile and useless, as well as counterproductive. I like having happy citizens; it keeps me from dying most of the time due to suspicion. Any time that a country can somehow rise up against a ruler is a time that the ruler has lost control. I won't interfere with much, but rights and regulations will be reviewed and added to. Such nonsense that these mortals have, what is wrong with them? Any priest of Mara would marry any two lovers; why is it such a big difference to have two people who love each other get to spend the rest of their lives together? What's the controversy?  
> 13- Not too high, nor too low, it was perfect. I could still see the people and their activities, albeit a bit less clearly, but still enough to know if it was wrong- and close enough to interfere, if I had to.  
> 14- Occasionally, of course, it's not unusual to find a Dragon Slayer who is exceptionally powerful, usually female, and can have several Mates. They are mostly other Slayers, and one normal mage, not a Slayer of any type. The weirder the magic, or the more rare, the easier it is to become a Mate. It's never a sure thing, though.  
> 15- Several times, when I was trying to capture some people, ransoming them or something like that. I don't really remember. But, it was, however, useful in experimentation, especially since Neloth wound up not touching them after I reported back to him what had happened. It left it to me. I liked the usefulness. Items can be stored without question, but some things.... have expirations.  
> 16- Though nowhere near as rejuvenated as it needs to be- I just happen to have a lot.  
> 17- Sensitive hearing, remember?  
> 18- I notice that the ones I gave him are still with him. Intriguing.  
> 19- It's generally a good idea to speak the reverse incantation, though, if it's your first few times practicing it, or if you don't want to make mistakes. I've been doing magic for a very long time; you can understand why I wouldn't.  
> 20- I'm quite desperate at this point. I'm not thinking. It's hard to right now, even this is causing quite a bit of, uh, disorder, that's the word, in my mind. Hard to put together things that would be quick in everything else, things keep getting in the way like cheese and string. What is it with those two anyway? I mean, a mouse likes cheese, but a cat likes string. Why can't they like each other too?  
> 21- Be it for his friends or for himself, I don't know. I don't care, either. I'm close to getting what I want, so I really don't care. I'll be sane again and not have such stupid thoughts in my head like why is that cornucopia yellow instead of polka dotted pink and purple?  
> 22- To be strictly honest, it's not my best move, but let's face it, I am going crazy. I need to have contact with my Mate. It happens. All Dragon Slayers are the same way, as well as Vampire Lords. I've explained this before.  
> 23- Haven't I?


	4. Entrances and Exits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Rat A Tat by Fall Out Boy.

My Mate says a final goodbye to his teammates and friends, while I watch from the staircase, up a bit from ground floor level. Laxus especially has a hard time dealing with his ‘entrapment’ as he calls it, but grudgingly goes along with it, after learning that Lucy’s life would most definitely be in danger if he did not comply.  
Slowly, they trickled out, probably feeling vulnerable as a deer and twice as skittish. Irregardless, they go.  
Leaving me and my Mate alone, for the first time in almost 16 years.  
This is going to be fun.

“So what do you want me to do?” he asks, once his friends are gone. He’s gotten a stormy look on his face.  
I turn, walking up the stairs, and call back over my shoulder, “Nothing, just yet. I wish you to remain by me at all times, though.”  
Bickslow grudgingly follows, grumbling a bit, but not enough for me to tell him to shut up.  
I lead the way up to my quarters, wanting to use them as a makeshift office. It’s much more comfortable here instead of in a cramped office that refuses to let one relax.

I look over the papers in front of me, conscious of the movements of both myself and the other person in the room. He’s staring into the fire, while I mull over these decisions laid out before me, that I must make.  
The Grand Magic Games are approaching fast, and it would be criminal to not have the best competitors on our team. I’m thinking of making Dark Guilds legal to participate in this as well, upping the ante and trying to get under the skin of any legal guilds left.  
Of course, they wouldn’t be able to do anything. That’s the best part.  
For her betrayal, of course, I must punish Nightshade. None can betray the Dark Brotherhood without facing the Wrath of Sithis. She also disobeyed my order, and before that, Noctus’. That is three times she has to face the Wrath of Sithis.  
I do not believe that there will be another. My Family is Family; I will protect them from people who believe themselves above the order we have created there. It does not matter if she is my daughter, or not.  
Because of her actions, though, instead of making her face the Wrath for her count of disobeying me, I will not allow her to participate in the Grand Magic Games.  
But who to pick?

Bickslow shifts in his seat, bringing me out of my thoughts a bit. Now, instead of looking into the fire, he stares at me, almost trying to make sure that I am here, that he is, himself. Confusion radiates off of him, and if I had to guess, I would say it’d be because of what I was working on. I haven’t written anything on my piece of paper before me.  
Ten pieces of parchment lie before me, and I consider them, going down the list of people I could include.  
Several names I cross out the first time, I don’t want Fukuro without Decimus, and Decimus has no magic. Others are eliminated for because of low magic levels, or a weakness that is easily exploited.  
A second, even third time down helps to narrow it down until I finally have my team, and their back up.  
I address the first players foremost, starting with Noctus. Her magic, death and darkness, is perfect for representing us. The next is for Morrigan, an unusual assassin with her magic for wind and a limited amount of foresight, who used a long sword more easily than anyone I’d ever known. They’d share command, the two of them being both trustworthy and powerful.  
Killian, a Slayer rank, is a proficient healer and had more than a few surprises up his sleeves. His wonders never cease to amaze his targets, fellow guildmates, and, even me, on occasion. He has been recommended for promotion for some time. Orion is an obvious choice, not only is he an expert marksman, but he is insanely strong in both his craft and his body, making him perfect for almost any challenge, though the man’s deathly afraid of water.  
Cobra is the last of the first team, I want a Dragon Slayer on there.  
The back-up team, whose members would take the place of the first team should they fall, is almost as impressive, with Erigor, Rustyrose, Midnight, Racer, and Ortelloth, who uses eruption magic, almost on Jura’s level of power, with her control over magma and the earth.  
With them heading the team, though, I don’t see how we can lose.

I relax once the letters are written, and use a touch of magic to send them on their ways. I have two days to make sure they were all here, in Crocus, for the games. With my seizing the government, the populace might think it won’t happen. It must, though.  
Scrawling another note, I send it too, popping it into existence in the head journalist’s office at the most prominent newspaper in the country, who happens to be based here.  
I stand up swiftly, my cloak swinging from my motion, and head out the door, with Bickslow being snapped awake from his doze and launching himself out of his chair to follow me, as I told him to.  
What an obedient lap dog.

The journey to Crocus for my players is uneventful, as I approved an escort so they wouldn’t have to use their magic to defend themselves. I need every one of them at peak performance. They won’t be killed or anything, if they fall, but I wish to make sure that they can survive practically anything.  
Of course, the dregs of the remaining guilds in Fiore will hardly pose a challenge. I just want to remind them of that.  
I mean, if I really wanted the populace to fear us, I wouldn’t even send in a team, I’d put myself in there.  
I’ll have to remember to tell them to thank the people there for cheering them on whether they win or lose, or if they are actually cheered on or not.  
Accepting the coffee from the waitress, I sip at it delicately, while Bickslow stares at me with his own espresso sitting on the table, cooling just a touch. Although I doubt it’s the tabletop that would be cooling it.(24)(25)  
I calmly drink the caffeinated beverage, and make sure that the dregs are, in fact, not insulting me, before glancing up at him.  
He hasn’t touched his drink still. I sigh, placing my cup on the edge of the table to indicate a needed refill.  
The waitress comes by, refilling my cup, and eying the two of us with a worried expression, like she’s worried we’ll start a fight in the middle of her place of work. Hurriedly, she finishes filling my cup as I stare at my comrade, who is still wearing his mask, only his eyes covered now.(26)  
It makes me remember that I never got the opportunity to give him that mask I made for him.  
I stir my coffee absentmindedly with the spoon provided, despite not putting anything in the substance.  
“Would you like to break the silence?” I ask, jokingly. He grumpily sighs, then takes up his coffee cup, draining it and almost breaking it as he slams it back down.  
“Well then. What do you think of my team, for the Grand Magic Games?” I speak, smiling slightly as I swallow a portion of the hot substance that is almost solely the reason I’m alive today. That, and my skill with a blade.  
“Who is your team?” he asks after a few moments of silence.  
I smirk into my cup, setting it down quickly and wiping off my expression, keeping it neutral as possible.  
“Morrigan, a powerful wind wizard with limited telepathy and foresight capabilities, who wields a longsword.” he nods, and I can feel his eyes upon my face. I keep my expression as is, my eyes boring into where his are through his mask. “Noctus and her are the leaders, but Noctus uses shadow and death magic. Besides them, there’s Killian, the healer, and Cobra, whom you should already know about. Orion completes the group with marksman skills so good he snipes his targets from a mile away, minimum.”  
His mouth is more expressive than anything he has that I can see, although I doubt his eyes would do much to tell me what’s going on inside his head.  
He doesn’t like his team’s chances, although he’s thinking about what he can do about them, to try and improve the possibility.  
I smirk, cocking my head to one side and taking a drink from my coffee. “What do you think I was going to do? Choose the weakest members in my Family to compete for this honor? I’m a lot of things, but recklessly stupid is not one of them. My followers over the years, however… they are different stories. They’re mostly dead now. I killed them. With the Ebony Blade.”  
I watch the shock settle into him satisfactorily, but my smile slips after a while as nothing else happens. No reaction beyond that.  
I sigh tiredly, then down the rest of my coffee and set the cup down. The waitress approaches again with the pot, but I wave her off. “Just the check, please.”  
She glances at us and our intense staring contest, but comes back with the check. Eagerly, she leaves it with us, speeding off to other customers who aren’t exuding such threatening vibes that make the people who pass us by nervous and expecting a fight to break out.  
I smile at him, closing my eyes and tilting my head to the other side. “I think it’s time for us to leave, don’t you think?”  
He just narrows his glare at me a tad more.  
I pull out my jewels, leaving a hefty tip and more in the tip jar as we leave. It’s nice to be good for a change.  
I wrap my arm around his, linking elbows as we walk. He looks uncomfortable and unhappy at the contact.  
I smile and straighten my back. It’s fun to be evil, too.

The palace is the meeting place for my team, and I look over the prospects with a smile on my face. I’m sure we will win this, especially with Nocturnal watching over us, as well as Sithis and Molag Bal. I’m sure that the lord of Domination is watching to see if I will succeed in dominating the world here, with nothing but a friendly competition.

The stadium is packed with the people of Crocus, come in for a good show. The minor guilds who didn’t even place last year are gone- the preliminary sweeps of different teams of mine before the hostile takeover night were very thorough, getting almost everyone of them.  
I smile as I move up the staircase, Bickslow following behind me, almost simultaneously looking around and glaring at my back.  
Gone are the days when he would comment on my body. I almost miss it, before I remember exactly how annoying it is.  
The crowd cheers almost aimlessly, as they’re getting fights for no charge, entertainment, and rivalries as well as topics of conversation for months to come, debating who’d win, who’d lose, who would draw.  
Contestants aren’t even out yet, but there will be a competition, purely to see who will fight who in the first round, or something along those lines. This is much different from the last Grand Magic Games.  
The dregs of the surviving guilds have hauled themselves in for the treatment and humiliation of their inevitable defeat.  
An unfortunate announcer, Jason, from Sorcerer Weekly, is in charge of keeping track and setting up the matches. Decimus and Fukuro are security, with the team getting ready in their rooms in the hotel. Once they’re in the challenge, they’ll travel here, to watch the end of the first challenge and the next set.  
There’s a program this year, and in it are labelled the teams and their back ups.  
Ah, it seems that the little guilds are teaming up, those without the properly required number of 5 are combining with others to compete.  
It is no matter. They will be crushed.  
I smile as I look at it, making Bickslow frown with worry.  
In the viewing room here, we get the aspect of the stadium, the people in it and in the audience, as well as any players on the field. Decorated with a black and white trim, it’s a classic look, timeless, and the newly constructed place, only just finished yesterday, is built for comfort.  
My comfort.  
A nice place for a cold or warm goblet of blood, wine, brandy, ale, or mead, as well as the fantastic scenic look outside, with enchantments woven into it to keep out unwanted chills or hot gusts. An overhang shelters from the sun, and the smallness of the room makes it ideal for privacy or meetings, whatever I want.  
In it today, however, are not cushions or comfy pillows for myself to rest on and be fed, but a throne and a slightly smaller, less grand one. (27)  
I take my seat, prompting a sudden hush over the people here, who look up at me. The metal of the stadium glints in the sunlight, making many of them cover their eyes for shade, though they continue to look.  
I smile, my eyes making their way through the waves of people.  
“May the games begin.” I say, my voice carrying effortlessly with only a touch of my power of the Voice.  
The crowd erupts in cheers, ready for excitement. I chuckle darkly, leaning back in my seat and relaxing enough to assume a more casual pose. Looking over at Bickslow a few moments later, he’s at the end of his seat, not relaxed at all.  
In the program, I open the pages, looking through it as quickly as I can while still absorbing it’s contents. The navy blue and black pages are lovely, decorated with white ivy leaves drawn on the original template.  
My fingers trace the design as I hear Jason start talking about the challenge and the first competitors. Gripping the edges of the page, I almost want to tear it, but halt before I can. The stress of my power is already apparent, the embossed letters crinkling and the page stressed in lines it had never had before.  
I’m sure there’s a lesson in there, but I don’t care. I’m not a teacher anymore; no one should follow my example. No one can.  
I toss the colorful paper to Bickslow, who looks through it much more carefully than I as I watch the proceedings start for the 23rd Annual Grand Magic Games.  
It’s boring, until the fighting starts. It won’t for some time.

The first challenge, to determine the order of fights, is hide and seek.  
Out of everyone, I expect Noctus to succeed, until, that is, the legal guilds demand that the back ups for my team participate as well.  
I sigh, but I am amused. The gall these people have.  
I wave at Jason, who looks up, and nods, giving in to their request.  
With a quick talk to them, the back ups come on out, as well as Vidaldus. I have no quarrel with him being here, so I allow it. There are no limits to how many backups you can have.  
I raise my hand to begin it again, but am stopped again. I narrow my eyes at the man, but he sends a thought projection.  
“Listener, they are refusing to fight any other guild but those in yours, although they agree that those in this challenge are fair game.” he bows apologetically, and I sigh, throwing my eyes up to the ceiling, and decide to allow it.  
“Don’t let them have anything else, though. They need to be taught obedience.” I say, and the man bows, before the thought projection shimmers back into nonexistence.  
I don’t even know his name. (28)

The teams finally converging on the challenge, they are released into the city and I watch (29), captivated as Kurohebi follows the people around, knocking them down and making them get the less favorable spots, although it’s not only him doing so. Killian is doing quite well, sending down Flare and Jenny as quickly as Kurohebi got Eve and, quite accidentally, Vidaldus and Rustyrose. They were arguing loudly over their hiding place.  
I laughed quietly behind my hand at that, but not for long, as it meant that he would face off last, when I thought he would have lasted longer than that. Really, with his succubus power, he should have.  
The two of them squared off, Killian and Kurohebi, both of them determined and Kurohebi smiling and laughing like a madman as he found more and more players, including those on his own team.  
Oh, yes, the teams were broken up like this:  
Fairy Tail, with Erza Scarlet, Laxus Dreyar, the pink haired one, Mirajane Strauss, and Gajeel Redfox. Their back up was Lucy Heartfilia, although Levy and Wendy were still able to compete, being back up for the other teams here, Sabre Tooth and Raven Tail for Levy, with Wendy representing Mermaid Heel and Quatro Cerberus.  
Jura, Jenny, Lyon, Sherria and Eve were the team representing Lamia Scale and Blue Pegasus, their backup being Hibiki. The Tri men would have competed doubtlessly, but Rem and his love Sherry died in the attack. Such a shame.  
For Mermaid Heel and Quatro Cerberus, there was Kagura, Bacchus, Rocker, Arana and Millianna, and for Raven Tail and Sabre Tooth came Rogue, Sting, Minerva, Dobengal, Flare, Kurohebi, and Obra. They couldn’t agree who should be back up, as they all want to fight.  
I watch, thinking about how this could practically all be set to music, it was so lovely and seemingly choreographed.  
I feel if Rufus Lore was here, he would be easily able to conquer this challenge, remembering their magic signatures and following them to their hiding spots. Unfortunately, he died along with Orga Nanagear.  
Even the backup, for both my team and theirs, are playing, with Lucy hiding inside Horologium since she was found and figured she couldn’t get tagged in there.  
She’s technically right. Smart girl.  
The rest of the game goes smoothly, with Dobengal finding Jenny and Bacchus, Rogue finding Erigor and Racer, who had already found Lyon. Bacchus and Midnight found each other at the same time, scoring them a prime battle slot against none other than each other. Ortelloth is found next, but then Jura gets caught with Arana trying to cram into the same space, which is much too small for Jura. (30)  
Killian finds Natsu and Lucy, whose hour had run out, but Kurohebi had found Cobra and Morrigan, who is extremely well hidden (31). Laxus found them, both her and Orion, who had tried to flee across the rooftops over the sounds of battle. Luckily, Killian grabbed him as well, and bagged Kagura as well.  
Noctus is found by Kurohebi, who could feel her magic presence. The only ones left are very hard to find, but tag both Killian and Kurohebi.  
Jason, understandably, is ecstatic. “The remaining fifteen competitors not found will be including in the second or third round of magic duels, and hopefully will pass to the next ones! May luck be on your side!”  
I glance at the announcer’s box, slightly below and to the left of our own, and see Jason is sweating as he glimpses me.  
I smirk, lifting my head slightly, and bringing it down in a nod after some time, watching as he releases a breath.  
I smirk again, and then look at the floating line up, written with a Light Pen by someone who was keeping track. It updates the lacrima viewing screens in the room, and I frown at it, leaning forward and standing, determining the chances of winning.

Jason is talking again, narrating almost annoyingly, saying about how it would either be the first or the last match, at the call of this coin flip. (32)  
Kurohebi calls out, “Heads!”  
The coin lands dragon side up, and they look at Killian, who considers the prospect. On one hand, it could give Kurohebi the advantage, as his ability to use Mimic Magic could make it very interesting, copying the other people’s powers, but it would give Killian’s magic time to regenerate from anything it was due to the challenge. (33)  
He nods once, then says, “I want to fight first.”  
Kurohebi, opposite him, twists his thin lips into a smile, stretching across his face gruesomely.  
I lean forward in my seat, considering the battle. Killian vs. Kurohebi….  
It will prove interesting.

The fight is just starting, and I’m on the edge of my seat, goblet of blood on the floor, as Bickslow and the rest of the stadium do the same, eager for the violent fight about to ensue.  
Kurohebi takes the opportunity for a first shot, moving like a snake as he pulls out a Sand attack, Sandstorm, sending it Killian’s way.  
My Brother stands, not moving, and once it strikes him, he disappears, shimmering out of existence.  
Kurohebi is understandably confused, once the dust settles, and stands still while looking over where his opponent was. Taking this opportunity, Killian strikes him in the back by slamming his feet into him, jumping off a second after impact.  
A magic circle flares out where he hit Kurohebi, releasing a spell and catching everyone’s attention. Kurohebi, as well, notices, before he feels the effects, the magic hitting him like a truck and launching him thirty feet in the air.  
Killian runs towards his opponent, no matter that he’s in the air, and readies another attack, slicing through the air and impacting Kurohebi with his feet, sending him through the air with a roundhouse kick, crashing the snake like man into the stadium.  
Kurohebi falls to the ground, then gets up, narrowing his eyes and running at Killian, whose pale pink hair has hardly even moved, even with everything that he’s done.  
Kurohebi looks angry as never before, as if he hasn’t and will not stand for anything resembling this humiliation. (34)  
Using his Mimic Magic, he powers up himself, but not with Sand Magic. Instead, he pulls up magic circles, and I peer at him, trying to identify the magic.  
Once I do, though, I laugh and study him more closely, leaning back in my seat.  
He’s pulled out a Water magic spell, Wave, sending it towards Killian, pushing him back once it reached him. I smile in amusement as the arena is flooded with water, and I’m reminded of a book with a story something like this. (35)  
Killian is deathly afraid of water- he was attacked by a water mage when he was a battlemage for the Imperial Army here, in Fiore. It lead to his dismissal from them, but it wasn’t entirely the reason. He can’t do anything with or on any large scale water formation, like a sea, an ocean, or something like that.  
Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t do something to loosen the grip of the water, or even swim.  
The man simply discards his covering cloak, a gray and light blue military coat, and reveals his body to the world.  
His chest bandages are red, keeping his shoulder and upper torso from killing him, while his legs down to just above his knees are wrapped in the same, only they are grey instead. Two more places are occupied by tightly wrapped bandages, his hands, both of them dark brown in a fighter’s glove form. His feet, however, are covered with black steel shoes, which pack a powerful punch, er, kick (36). A single strip of red cloth is wrapped around his left bicep, and he opens his eyes, looking directly at me.  
He surfaces, pulling a breath, and then looks at Kurohebi, who’s smiling on top of the water, standing on it easily. Killian’s eyes flick back to me, and he nods once, before his closes his eyes, his mouth moving, reciting something under his breath, his right hand going to the bandage on his arm, pulling at the knot slowly.  
“Dimitere mea potestatem. Dimitere mea vita. Vinco mea hostis, mea relicus germanus.”  
I straighten up, hearing his words, and watch, spellbound, as my Brother accepts Kurohebi into the Family, sending me a clear message, and pulling the cloth off his arm, letting it fall.  
I lean back a bit, and as Killian makes the last eye contact he’ll ever have, I nod, my eyes twinkling, and he smiles, at peace. A second later, the spell finishes, and the body of my Brother is consumed in a fiery explosion of magical power, vaporizing the water immediately, and pushing Kurohebi out of the stadium, even, sending him flying into Crocus. I cringe when I think of the landing.  
The crowd is silent for a moment, then erupts in cheers.  
Kurohebi has been defeated, at the cost of my Brother’s life.  
But, I believe, it will be beneficial in the long run.  
I smile, looking at the cloth on the field. He will be missed. A good Brother, one of the best. He has earned a place at Sithis’ side. I equip a Telekinesis spell, pulling the cloth towards me, and the people don’t notice, except for several mages.  
I look at those that noticed, holding the cloth in my hands now, and stand, moving to the edge of the box. I hold it up in both hands, high above my head. I smirk- they’re visibly shaken.  
Everyone in my team is just as powerful, if not more powerful, as that. We will do whatever it takes. I am glad, however, that Kurohebi is fine.  
He is going to be a fine assassin.  
I smile, holding my head up high, and they all share glances.  
Turning around, I move back to my throne, taking a relaxed stance, confident, sure in my power, and the cloth is held in one hand, loosely. My message has been sent, and received.  
It’s good to be the Empress.

Another thing is nagging me, though. Killian’s death means that he won’t be able to compete anymore, even though he won.  
I consider his life, and smile at the memories of Siblings telling us how he saved them with either his magic or his body, as well as his famous exploits, killing corrupt senators and people who wronged others. He was very particular about that. A strange sense of honor, but he was a loyal Brother, and killed anyone who dared threaten the Family. He will be missed.  
Who shall replace him? Obviously Kurohebi, in the sense of the Family, but in this contest, who shall work?  
Decimus, his job now mostly done, pops his head into the box, and takes in everything with one sweep of his eyes. “Listener, might I talk to you?”  
I look up at my dear Brother, whose eyes shine in the light, his face flushed slightly.  
I nod, standing up and stepping out of the room, locking the door behind me.  
“Yes Decimus?” I ask, partially listening as I try and figure out the way around this problem.  
“I was thinking about Killian’s replacement for the tournament, and I believe it should be Nightshade.” he says.  
I ogle him, as confused as Sheogorath when he has no cheese in a room with him.  
“What?” I hiss through my teeth.  
“Hear me out. She’s a very advanced mage, and instead of punishing her like this for something not entirely her fault, she can be put against the hardest foes, as a way of both proving herself and punishment. She would also be allowed no contact with anyone outside of her opponents, and complete isolation would occur for her here.” he finishes, his expression one of understanding for my rage.  
I sigh, looking away from my Brother, and towards the floor and the door, where Bickslow is undoubtedly wondering what the hell is going on.  
“Fine. I don’t want to, and make sure that is clear to her. I’m still disappointed at her actions, even if they were ‘accidental’. But with no more options, other than the backups, she’s in.”  
“Speaking of which, there are not enough people on our side to compete against the remaining players over the next three days, especially if we lose more matches.” Decimus brings up the point, and I sigh.  
“I’ll do something about it, in the event that we need to, and only then. Tell Nightshade that she is on very thin ice. I do not care if she loses, but it will not bode well if she kills her opponents. Make that very clear to her.”  
Decimus nods, and places his right arm on his chest over his left pec, criss crossing his arm across his chest. With that, he turns around to leave.  
“Oh, actually, one more thing, Decimus. Send out Fukuro to collect Kurohebi, and have him tended to in the infirmary. I will visit him when he’s resting.”  
Decimus’ face turns to me, with a smile. “You’re going to try and talk him into this, aren’t you?”  
I look at him, and smile. “Of course I am. He’s talented, with a penchant for darkness already.”  
Chuckling, I place a rune on the door of the private box, and walk calmly to the announcer’s box, out of sight of the crowd until I get there.

I open the door to the announcer’s box, finding Jason in there having a blast. He turns when he hears me make a noise (37), and is noticeably startled.  
“Listener!” he says, after covering his microphone.  
I don’t give a reaction, only moving forward to him, slowly, and bend to whisper in his ear.  
“A contender named Nightshade will be fighting next round, as well as several other contenders in the second and third rounds, if they are needed. You will be expected to make the necessary arrangements. They will, however, be the last contenders of the matches, if they are required. Move the others up in the lineup.”  
I left, enjoying the trembling of the popular reporter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24- The frostiness between us is more than enough to do so. Probably freeze it, actually. This is a joy, can't you tell?  
> 25- However, it's good. I've started making more sense already, although it's still a bit touch and go.  
> 26- His outfit has changed over the years, like my has. He's wearing a navy blue overcoat that's lined with a deep purple along the edges of the cloth. His hands are covered by dark gray half gloves most of the time, but not now, exposing paler flesh than when I last saw him in good light. The boots on his feet are pointed at the ends, steel toed and dark blue, a shade or two different from his coat. They extend to his knees, providing protection, and with his pants tucking into them. Those are a pale purple, with a white trim on the belt holding them up. They're overlapped with stripes of white that criss cross down to the knees, and might go down further. His shirt is almost like the one that I've seen only in pictures, when I chose him for my apprentice. It's a pale blue that has two blocks of color that extend down his arms, of white and purple on his left and right respectively. His mask is now more of a visor, allowing his hair to be seen, but not a slice of his eyes. It's decorated with a blue-purple cross in the center, while the rest is the silvery gray of steel.  
> 27- Guess which one is for which of us.  
> 28- I know what you're thinking, but I'm not going to kill him. Unless he pisses me off some more.  
> 29- I told them to try and not reveal their powers as much as possible, but, truthfully, it matters little. They'll find out sooner or later; they might as well be terrified now.  
> 30- That made me laugh. He was really surprised to be caught, and at the fact that he couldn't even fit his shoulders inside.  
> 31- She sneezed, but it would have been covered up by the sounds of battle, had Laxus not been near.  
> 32- The coin was a septim, donated by me.  
> 33- His magic regeneration levels are insanely high, Ethernano is quite attracted to his presence, as you might call it. I call it his genes- his ears a bit pointed, and he's rather tan. I say he's part High Elf.  
> 34- I heard about what he did at the last Games, of course, and the one before I found Bickslow. The last one, he cut off a competitor's ear and part of the pinkie finger, which lead to some pretty nasty arguments, but he won the match and kept his trophies, before destroying them in front of the person's eyes. Before that, there was the sock, with Toby. That was.... I'm not sure if he was stupid or what. Just.... ugh. I'm glad that halfwit of a mage is dead.  
> 35- The Armorer's Challenge; it is a great book, and very informative.  
> 36- It definitely explains how he was able to put a magic circle on Kurohebi with only a touch, and how he did so much damage with them.  
> 37- A loud one, at that. Dropped my sword on the ground to get his attention. I did pick it back up.


	5. Showdowns and Deals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Fallen Angels by Black Veil Brides.

I return to the box, disabling the rune and closing the door behind me, finding Bickslow drinking some blood from a goblet like I was earlier. He does nothing when he sees me out of the corner of his eyes, and gulps down the contents of his cup. I smile wickedly, looking at my Mate and the wrongs I’ve made him do to survive. Then it falls off my face, and as he turns to refilling his cup, a sadness makes itself known to me. What is this feeling?  
Ah, it is regret.  
I haven’t felt this is… centuries.  
I scoop up my goblet, drowning the frown that is my expression with blood, it going down much easier than before, even compared to an hour earlier. I would be startled, but I expected something like this. Bickslow’s drinking it with eager abandon, as if he had trouble with it just as much as I did. (38)  
I look at the field, and a pleasantly surprised to see that it is Noctus on the field, with Kagura at the opposite end, who looks both focused and nervous at this. Her blade remains sheathed, however, but she looks like she might have to draw it at this battle.  
Noctus, however, is looking as chipper as can be, except for glaring up at the sun, using an umbrella to shield her pale skin from the sun, and her eyes. The girl is so sensitive to it, she only travels during the night. She’s actually nocturnal, and people think that’s why she’s called Noctus. (39)  
Her bangs, white on her right side, black on her left, frame her face, with her mouth covered in black lipstick curve into a smile, tiny as it may be. Her pigtails flare out behind her, white at the tops and black at the bottoms, while her outfit suggests she’s an innocent little girl, the umbrella shielding her a mainly black figure, with bows and connecting cloth around the rim a cheery red, as is the handle. Her outfit is a small corset with a halter top, blue in color, not quite reaching her neck, with a red bow but blue strings and red fabric configuring the corset, the lower portion of her top.  
Her skirt also suggests an innocent schoolgirl as much as her pigtails do, the overlay red with a bow, and the bottom portion of it a blue, layered so that if she spins, they’ll flare out. Her tights are a black and blue, in a diamond pattern, covering her legs up to her mid thigh, with bows of blue tying them in place and hanging down so one can see them. Her boots are black with red bows adorning them, going down in the front.  
As cute as she might look, she’s one of the most powerful of people here. This is really just for show; she likes to throw her opponents off. Normally, she looks as serious as she is, dressed in blue or red, even sometimes black. However, at this contest, I guess she’s feeling cheeky. I doubt she’ll show up in the same outfit all the days.  
Her golden yellow eyes pierce through everyone except Morrigan, Nightshade, and I (40), making her seem like she knows everything about you, and can see your soul. (41)  
Morrigan and her are probably the most powerful members of the Dark Brotherhood, besides myself (42). Nightshade, though, has her talents.  
Noctus looks at her opponent, turning around fully to assess her. She smiles even more, and I laugh behind my hand, knowing that no matter how good Kagura is, she’s no match for Noctus. Although they do not command opposite forces and I don’t expect anyone to really do so in this contest (43), Kagura is hopelessly outmatched and definitely going down.  
Bickslow looks at me from a slouch on his chair, peeking at me, really, from under his visor. His head is held in one hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his head tilted to the left slightly. He must be wondering what I’m thinking; I don’t care right now. Noctus is going to fight and win, and I’m sure it’ll be a good one.  
“Match start!” calls out Jason over the loudspeaker, and Noctus immediately raises her umbrella, a magic circle forming above it, casting a spell of darkness to cover the arena and prevent any sunlight from filtering through. I expect she’ll do the same thing for all her fights, or create a tiny little cloud to block out the sun.  
Kagura, already charging, can no longer see her opponent, letting Noctus swing by her and hit her in the back, with her umbrella, no less. The thing is closed, and with a click of a button, she lets out a blade concealed in it.  
Unfortunately, Kagura hears it, and chooses to rely upon her sense of hearing instead of sight. She dodges out of the way of Noctus’ slash, and raises her still-sheathed blade in a defense position.  
Noctus hits it with her weapon, mostly the fabric part, but a clash of blades can be heard. My Night Vision is making it almost impossible to see anything but inside that sphere of darkness. The Lacrima Vision is doing well, illuminating the pair as they fight by special magic, not interfering with the magic that happens in there anyway.  
Jason’s going on just this, though, making it a bit behind, but it’s better than nothing for them. “Kagura is being forced down to her knees! I don’t know how she can survive this onslaught!”  
Finally, she grits her teeth, opens her eyes, and they blaze with power. Her second origin is releasing, allowing her to push Noctus away and give herself a boost in power. The next move she makes is to draw her sword, which she charges with, aiming to slice Noctus in two.  
My Sister smiles darkly, and retracts her blade into the umbrella, placing it in front of her like a cane, then flares it out, the covering on the floor as Noctus flips up, gripping the handle and holding her position on the top of the umbrella, her skirt not even swaying the slightest bit. The only part of her that doesn’t defy gravity is her hair, her pigtails moving slightly in the breeze and her bangs hanging upside down.  
Once Kagura reaches about four feet from her, she pushes off the handle, her pigtails trailing behind her as she spins around and around, her hair actually wrapping around her. Her hands touch the ground behind Kagura, who is in the process of turning around to face her opponent once again, and she kicks her legs out, hitting the maiden of Mermaid Heel in the side with such force one could hear the cracking of her ribs. At least three, I think.  
Every Dragon Slayer besides Cobra and I flinches at the sound, which makes the people they’re with look at them with questioning looks. Bickslow even flinches, though that’s more due to being a vampire. Our hearing is much better, supposedly, although I never noticed. Mostly because I already had great hearing.  
Kagura gasps, clutching her side as she falls to the ground, her sword falling from her right hand.  
Noctus bounces back, doing a handspring and landing on her feet delicately. She smiles sweetly, and the crowd waits with baited breath.  
Kagura, always determined, stands with a struggle, bringing her sword up again in her right hand. It’s probably better that way, as it would be a strain on the ribs she broke to wield it with her left hand.  
She walks towards Noctus rather than charging, but I suspect this is already painful enough for her.  
Noctus smiles wickedly, and moves her arm up to chest height, holding it about a foot away from it, making a hand movement, much like a summoning. Kagura looks up in time to see this, and her panic makes her look back, which she then sees what Noctus was doing. The umbrella is coming at Kagura, very, very fast.  
The blade is out, too.  
Noctus laughs and pulls out a dagger with her left hand, still holding the sigil in her right, and runs at Kagura, slicing at her while she’s distracted. She only just blocks, before trying to get out of the way of both the objects trying to hurt her.  
My Sister does not like that, but still laughs, and I watch, as does the audience on Lacrima vision, as the umbrella’s blade pierced into Kagura with startling accuracy, going through to the other side. Blood squirts out, as Kagura looks at the small steel blade, hidden in a seemingly innocent thing, poking through her body. It’s in her midsection, an unfortunate place for a blade to be, but it could be worse. In that case it could have impaled her head.  
Noctus smiles, stowing away her dagger and walking around calmly, to the other side of Kagura, pushing her down with her boot to pull out her blade.  
She leans down, whispering in her ear, “Don’t get up, darling. I’d hate to have to tear your head off, although I’m sure you’d make a nice treat for my pet.”  
Kagura tries to get up at that, but Noctus digs her foot in and twists the blade, eliciting a gasp of pain from the female warrior under her boot, as Noctus leans back up, finally pulling out the blade.  
Kagura collapses, and doesn’t get back up. She’s almost struggling to draw breath, as well. A pool of blood is forming under her, prompting an immediate medical response.  
Noctus wipes the blood from the blade off on her skirt cover, and the audience is still in a deathly silence, until one person breaks out in applause. My team smugly grins, and the stadium gradually explodes in roars in celebration for Noctus’ victory over one of the toughest people in the realm.  
I join in on the applause.

The next battle is between Laxus and Orion, making me nervous for the upcoming rounds beyond this. Orion is fantastic at sharpshooting; however, this is not a long distance kill. This is serious.  
He’s about to go up against a Dragon Slayer (44). Not only that, but a clear shot might be difficult. Laxus can teleport, and I don’t want them to go head to head. I have no choice in the matter, however. Besides, if I did, Orion would think I think him too weak to take him down.  
No, this must play out, no matter how bad it may get. I only hope that the infirmary is up to the challenge.  
That reminds me, I’ve got to go visit Kurohebi.  
I’ve got some time before the match- the darkness spell Noctus laid takes a while to dissipate. They can’t start a new match until that happens. It’ll be a while.  
I stand, setting down my goblet and exiting the room, Bickslow wondering if he should follow. I answer the question with a kick to the doors, shutting them behind me and placing a rune on them to discourage him or any who wish to enter.  
The path to the infirmary is inside the stadium halls, making it easy for me to get there with plenty of time to spare. If I had to weave my way through people, I doubt it would have been as smooth or as quick.  
Doors unlocked, I whisk through them, and look around to find a pink-haired lady looking very annoyed at the presence of the team of Mermaid Heel and Quatro Cerberus. As soon as they see me, they shut up, except for Bacchus, who starts to yell. The rest of them simply glare at me.  
I don’t even listen to him, instead, I smile, then glare at the party. They take the hint fairly well, only taking a moment or two more than I’d like. The pink haired lady breathes a sigh of relief, until she spies me standing there.  
“What are you doing here? I don’t want any people in here unless they’re unconscious!” she yells.  
“You’re welcome to try. What is your name?”  
“Porlyusica. What do you want?”  
“I would like to speak to Kurohebi. Is he awake?” I ask, holding myself back. Judging from that encounter, she doesn’t like people any more than strangers.  
“He should be. Although I don’t know if he could get up to fight for your little teams just yet.” she says dismissively.  
I chuckle darkly. “My team is not the small one.”  
She falters, then looks at me more carefully. “You aren’t-”  
“I am. Listener. It is nice to meet such an attentive healer. You would do very well at research. I know someone just as arrogant and unhelpful as you. I think you would enjoy his company.”  
“I don’t enjoy any human’s company.”  
I move forward, finding Kurohebi’s bed that Porlyusica indicated. “That’s good. He’s not human. Never has been.”  
“Who is he?” she asks, interested.  
“He is a Dark Elf Vampire named Neloth. Arrogant bastard, but brilliant. You are probably his equal.” I say casually, sitting on the side of Kurohebi’s bed and checking his wounds. It’s not bad, just a couple of bruises. Pain like that won’t hurt him.  
She hmms, then moves off. Before two seconds have passed she hits Kurohebi with a pen she threw. “Wake up, you miserable wretch.”  
I smile at the familiarity, and look back at my hopefully interested companion. He’s awake, his eyes open and peeking at the retreating woman.  
“Hello Kurohebi. Did you hear me introduce myself?” I ask, and his eyes flick to me.  
“I did, actually.” he says, his lips moving just barely, as if he’ll upset Porlyusica.  
“That’s good. I want to talk to you about something. You are a very talented individual, and your guild is mostly crushed.” I hold up my hand, as his mouth had been forming words. “Don’t try to deny it; you know I’m right. It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact. I’m sorry to say it, but it is very true. I wish for you to join my organization before anything bad happens to you. Besides having rare magic, you have a personality and, I suspect, morals that would match our order with an efficiency that would do both of us great services.”  
“Am I not responsible for the death of one of your people?” he asks, sitting up in the bed, and I can see now how ripped his clothes are, his pants probably hanging off him in strips and his shirt torn already to shreds.  
“Killian, Sithis take him at his side, made a choice, and he approved of you. Your brutal tactics against him made him a worthy Brother in his eyes. There was no other way he could defeat you. I’m surprised that you withstood it, actually. It is usually lethal, not to just the caster, but to any of those present. It’s very impressive you’re still here.” I say, meaning the words.  
He pauses in a reaction, then looks at me.  
“Don’t answer now. Find me later on, when you have your answer, or send for me. I hope you join our Family, Kurohebi. You will do much more than you think possible.” I finish, then stand up.  
“I await your answer, Kurohebi. May Sithis guide your path.”  
With that, I walk out of the infirmary; once closing the door behind me, I run down the path, trying to reach the box before the next match starts.  
Orion needs all the support he can get for this match.  
I pause in mid stride, changing my direction and sprinting faster.

The match is five minutes away. I caught Orion before he went out.  
“Listener.” he says, dropping his arm from testing the bowstring of his favorite longbow, nearly as tall as he is.  
“Orion, good luck. You know who you’re facing?”  
“Laxus, the Dragon Slayer from Fairy Tail. He uses Lightning Magic.” he says, looking at me unsurely.  
“Yes, but do you know the extent of his abilities?” I ask, looking at him seriously. “He has secret Dragon Slayer attacks, and he can teleport. You need to be on your toes. If you choose to use your bow keep moving, keep him guessing, use as many effectual arrows as you can. Don’t let him hit you if you can. We can patch you up, but I’d rather you not know that kind of pain.”  
He nods, and then smiles at me. “Thank you, Listener. That’s very considerate of you to warn me, but I am proud to fight for our Family.”  
I nod my head, and then walk towards him, touching his shoulder as he looked out into the clearing gloom left from Noctus’ fight.  
“Good luck out there, Brother. You’ll do wonderfully, no matter what.” I say, and he smiles at me, before heading out, as I race down the hallway again towards the private box.

The path back to the box is longer than it should be, it seems, but I finally reach the box and enter. The match is just starting, and I close the door behind me, relieved that I didn’t miss a thing.  
Bickslow looks at me questioningly, probably wondering where I ran off to, literally. I don’t offer any information, and I doubt he’d approve even if I did answer.  
The stadium is erupting in applause, seeming that most of them are cheering for Laxus over Orion, but I can see several sections in the crowds that aren’t doing anything, simply watching yet. I smile. Some are beginning to see the pattern here.  
We’re winning. Not overwhelmingly, as Killian demonstrated, but we’re winning. All according to plan. (45)  
Orion is standing with his bow at the opposite end of the stadium from Laxus. The Lightning Dragon Slayer is basking in the glow of the crowd, and Orion is doing nothing but sizing up his opponent. Once the countdown begins to the start of the fight, he pulls back the bowstring, notching an arrow aimed directly at his muscled opponent.  
If there’s one thing I’m worried about with Laxus, it’s his secret Dragon Mode. The skin is hard enough to deflect iron and steel, no matter how much force is applied.  
Luckily, Orion’s reflexes and strength is not battle-hardened and tested for nothing. His bow and bare hands have taken down so many opponents, it’s ridiculous.  
He’s fully pulled it back by the time the countdown ends, and he releases it as Laxus turns his attention back to the fight.  
I watch his eyes widen in surprise as the arrow speeds toward him, and he moves to try and avoid it when it’s already a sure thing.  
The arrow hits him, and a magic circle is activated, pushing the arrow into his shoulder even deeper, almost drilling into him. He gasps in pain as the crowd draws in a collective breath, shocked that something can hit a Dragon Slayer, even something as ordinary as an arrow.  
He lifts his gaze, his right hand clutching his shoulder, and growls, just in time to watch the next one hit his hand clutching the shoulder. (46)  
Laxus is infuriated, and Orion hitches back another arrow as the ‘Thunder God’ charges towards him, magic lighting up his hands, no matter that there’s an arrow in one of them. I hope it was magical.

Here is yet another example of the power we hold. Laxus has yet to land a single blow on Orion.  
Granted, there are a few close calls, and it’s making me nervous, but he is doing very well. My Brother is an exceptional individual.  
Orion performs a back handspring with his bow in one hand, avoiding a blow, and swipes his feet under Laxus’, making him fall, then running away to get some ground between them. With practiced ease, he notches another arrow, only to be stopped with a punch to the face by a teleported Laxus.  
Finally, he’s learning.  
My Brother is dazed, and Laxus picks him up by the hood of his armor, lifting him up and sending a magically charged fist into his stomach, letting him go sailing through the air into the opposite wall of the stadium.  
I cringe, as does everyone watching. That is painful.  
Nevertheless, my Brother stands back up, his hood falling down and revealing his rather handsome face and almost-military haircut. (47)  
He stashes his longbow on his back, pulling up his crossbow at his side, and firing a bolt.  
It hits Laxus, and, instead of just hurting him with physical pain, he screams louder than ever, clawing at the bolt imbedded in the flesh of his leg, and it struck me. (48)  
That was- is- an anti-magic bolt.  
Stuck in Laxus’ leg.  
Ouch.  
I chuckle, looking at the tormented Dragon Slayer, still feeling the effects. Orion has already loaded another bolt, and shoots it, the metal sinking at least three inches into Laxus’ other leg, probably causing excruciating pain. (49)  
Orion, not even changing his expression, lets his eyes glitter as he loads another bolt, firing it at the Dragon Slayer as he looks up at the assassin. It lands right in his chest, throwing him back with the impact a couple of feet, stirring up dust.  
Laxus drops to his knees, holding himself up by his hands from the ground of the arena. He’s gasping for breath, in so much pain that any other person would have probably keeled over to just stop any more from coming.  
Orion walks towards his enemy, a loaded bolt in the slot, ready to be fired from the crossbow.  
“Admit defeat.” his deep, silky smooth voice almost drips out, and he lowers the crossbow at the blonde’s good shoulder.  
“Never.” Laxus replies, and Orion instantly shoots the crossbow, and the resulting gasp of pain makes Lucy, waiting in the stands, cover her mouth in shock, with tears leaking out of her eyes. She’s probably worried he’s going to die.  
Regrettably, not today. As I watch, Laxus gives one final effort, blasting Orion into the other end of the stadium again with his Lightning Magic, then the Dragon Slayer’s body gives up, landing him in the dirt with a little puff of dust.  
Orion stands once more, reloading the crossbow with practiced precision and hurry, aiming it at where Laxus was last. Once he sees him on the ground, defeated, he drops his aim and arm, latching the crossbow onto his side where it belongs. He didn’t even get out a gun.  
My Brother walks, calmly, slowly, deliberately, limping slightly, towards the exit, while the crowd is silent, shocked at the defeat of Laxus, the ‘Thunder God’, an S class mage, renowned for his strength. Then, one of those who didn’t immediately cheer on Laxus, starts clapping, the rest of the stadium hesitantly following his lead.  
Orion exits the arena with two broken ribs, a cracked femur, and seven shattered finger bones.  
But he won.  
I sit back in my chair, smiling smugly, taking a covert look at Bickslow.  
He’s in shock, looking at the defeated person he used to follow so loyally.  
Nothing for breaking down barriers like seeing his former ‘God’ defeated.

“Next match, in twenty minutes, is Lucy vs. Morrigan!” announces Jason, looking at the lineup of who is left for just today.  
We’re only on the fourth battle, with seven left. Eleven total, today. Tomorrow, we have some more. (50)  
I relax a bit, knowing that Morrigan can handle Lucy, no matter her power levels, although the spell Urano Metria has me a bit more worried than I’d like to admit. It’s powerful as all hell, but it does have to hit. During casting, too, Lucy is vulnerable, unless she can hold open a gate and cast it at the same time. Especially draining if she has to use two gates for it as well, in the case of doubling her magic power, as she tried to do long ago, at this very event.  
Morrigan, down below, sighs, turning her head to the side slightly and crossing her arms. “When I came up with the name, it was supposed to be THE Morrigan.” (51)  
Sensing a glare, I look down at her, projecting my Thu’um so that it reaches her. “Take your damn cloak off, you overgrown raven.”  
We share a glare, then laugh and shake it off, Morrigan pulling off her raven-feather cloak and sending her pet raven, Hugo, off to a safer location. She’s very connected with the bird, and he can often provide a distraction or deliver messages. Highly intelligent, as well, he can find almost anyone. (52)  
Her black clothes and dark hair ruffle slightly in the breeze, plain black clothes down to her wrists, black pants, black boots. The only splash of color is the brown rope belt around her waist- her hair even matches the rest of her outfit, even her earrings. She relaxes in the sun for a while, not worried about it burning her. Ravens have already been burned from their previous white forms into black, they had nothing to fear from the sun. Morrigan had nothing to fear from it either, and her pale skin, though it might make people worry about her burning in the sunlight, is impervious to the sun’s rays.  
I’d explain why, but that is Morrigan’s story to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 38- It was probably worse, of course, mainly because he was a new vampire. Vampiric newborns are thirsty nearly all the time, much like the rest of us, but we feel it less intensely than they do. He should have been taught. By me.  
> 39- Her real reason for getting it was her parents freaked out when they saw both her eyes and pale skin. She's almost an albino, that's how pale she is. She does not, however, have the purple eyes that accompany them, and she could get a tan if she so wished. Her eyes are yellow, and she has poor eyesight in the day, but excellent night vision.  
> 40- I don't remember how we learned to resist, you're on your own.  
> 41- I wouldn't be surprised if she could. She's immensely powerful, of course not on my level, but she can hold her own against probably anyone, even a wizard saint, although the first four, I doubt that she could hold for long. It would depend on how much cloud cover if she was in sun, or if it was night time, dawn, dusk, et cetera. Lots of variables.  
> 42- I can afford to be narcissistic, I'm great, and everyone knows it.  
> 43- Hell, Vidaldus and Flare are gonna fight, and they both use hair magic.  
> 44- A second generation Dragon Slayer, but still. Dangerous.  
> 45- I'm sure I had a plan at some point, but I don't care anymore. I've gotten what I wanted. But, we are showing that while we are powerful, anyone can be one of us. I wonder if I can organize something like this for our regular assassins. I think I could; just a regular games. Wonder how it'd go down, though? Battles to the death?  
> 46- Orion's smart. Laxus is right handed, always charging with that specific hand. It's easier to switch hands when you're ambidextrous, as most fighters aspire to be due to the potential hurt coming from a failed attack.  
> 47- I'm pretty sure a fair amount of women, and several men, fainted at this. He is very handsome.  
> 48- Not literally. Figuratively. Purely figuratively.  
> 49- I don't want to know, and I don't plan to.  
> 50- At least 9.  
> 51- I read this off her lips, so I can't fault her for it. It also amused me.  
> 52- I swear he has tracking magic in him or something. Always finds people. ALWAYS.


	6. Don't Mess With Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Stronger Than You from Steven Universe.

The twenty minutes are up, and we’re still waiting for Lucy to show. She’s been in the infirmary with Laxus, being there for him while he got his injuries tended to.  
Coming out of the doorway with him leaning on her, she sets him down next to the others in the team, and hurries down the stairs to the combat arena.  
Once there, I smile as Jason announces the start of the match.  
“Lucy Heartfilia of Fairy Tail is going up against Morrigan! Go get her, Lucy!” he shows his support, then gulps and looks at my box. I don’t turn my head or anything, and he hastily goes back to his duty as announcer.  
Lucy and Morrigan face each other, Lucy in a sort-of crouch with her right hand on her keys, Morrigan standing calmly on the opposite side, not moving once since the match began.  
Lucy finally has enough of the tense silence, and pulls up her keys, pulling out of the Celestial Spirit Realm, Leo and Taurus.  
The two crack their knuckles menacingly, for them, and launch a barrage of attacks, which Morrigan dodges most of them, with ease and grace.  
“Honestly, you people. Do you really think you can defeat me?” Morrigan taunts, not even moving too fast out of the way of their strikes.  
Lucy, angered by this, pulls out yet another key, summoning Scorpio.  
Immediately following a “YEE HAH!” there was a blast of Sand magic, hitting Morrigan, who groaned.  
“Why don’t I see this coming? This would be more useful.” she says, accepting the blast and disappearing in the swirl of the Magical Sand.  
Scorpio, Taurus, and Leo all stand still, until Morrigan runs out of the area for the spell, pulling up her magic and flinging it at her two melee combatants, sending the to the other side of the stadium, only narrowly missing their master. With Scorpio distracted, Morrigan kicks him in the face, and, using a bit of Wind Magic, launches him into the other wall. The spirits disappear, all of them apologizing except for Scorpio, who just grunts in pain.  
Calmly landing on the ground, on her feet, no less, Morrigan brushes off the sand that managed to get on her black shirt and pants.  
“Did you really think you could just beat me so easily?” she says, amusement glinting through her eyes and laughter bubbling off her lips.  
A teeny bit of Wind Magic on her fingertips, she sends it Lucy’s direction. It’s not nearly enough to harm her, but it does lift up Lucy’s skirt so everyone can see exactly what her complete outfit is.  
“Oh, Lucy, today was not a good day for you to wear a loose top.” Morrigan chuckles, and lifts up her arms for a spell of Wind. “Mini skirts and halter tops are slutty. Classy, not trashy is the way to go.” (53)  
I look over at Laxus’ last known position, and find him leaning on the railing, actually bending it in his fury at not protecting his mate.  
I’d feel bad for him, but I cannot feel that for someone who did the same to me, but for a much higher extent and effect.  
Morrigan releases the magic, sending a Storm Shred spell, more powerful than anything she’s faced from any mortal enemy (54), towards Lucy, who has almost no defense against it.  
Through the wind, though, comes a huge shape, and once it clears the spell it’s clear that it’s Capricorn, with Virgo beside him. Looking past them, Lucy is encased in Horologium.  
Morrigan smiles darkly, readying her magic, the wind already whipping around her as Wind Armor forms around her and clouds above in the sky start to form a dark fortress around the stadium.  
Capricorn, however, doesn’t let this stop him, and runs at her, swiping this way and that. Only the power of the Wind kept Morrigan from getting hit, though her reflexes are wonderful for being able to dodge them so quickly.  
Virgo joins in on the fight, and, combining with Capricorn their strikes, are able to hit Morrigan, eventually shredding through the Wind Armor and doing a good deal of work on her clothes.  
Finally, when it dissipates, Morrigan is pushed back by a combined physical hit from both of them, scowling at her torn clothing.  
“You will not hurt our Princess!” they say, still ready to attack.  
“Did you know that Ravens were once helpful to a Princess? But, once a single one of them failed in a task for the Sun Prince, all of them were burned black as a crisp. That’s why ravens are black, because one of us was an idiot. However, I’m not stupid, so it must be your ‘princess.’ I’ll take care of that for you.” Morrigan says, her hands moving from covering her exposed skin on her stomach, where most of the ripped cloth used to be whole, and into a spell formation, hurling out gusts of wind to distract them while she prepared a larger spell.  
“Tornado.” she yells out. She is lifted into the air by wind, spinning around, gaining more and more wind speed until her weather formation is unstoppable. The tornado starts moving forward, and I feel the breeze from here.  
It scoops up both of Lucy’s spirits, tossing them around and around, until it spits them out, making them shimmer into gold dust, going back to their realm. Continuing onward, the wind pulls in Horologium with Lucy inside of him.  
Morrigan plays with the clock tower, smashing him into as many things as possible, before letting them fly out. Once on the ground, Horologium disappears, too much damage taken by the spirit.  
The tornado dissipates, Morrigan gently setting herself on the ground, a fair amount of distance away from Lucy.  
The Celestial Spirit Mage is panting, but stands, pulling out her whip in her right hand, and a key in her left.  
“How many more things can you summon?” asks Morrigan, walking towards her opponent, a smug grin on her face.  
“They aren’t things!” she yells at her, and the Wind witch pauses, mockingly putting a hand over her heart and the other over her mouth.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry! They’re just things in the way for me beating you into a bloody pulp. Of course, silly me.” she says, still smiling. “Just give up now, Lucy. It’ll hurt you a whole lot less.”  
The burst of golden light illuminates the arena, Sagittarius appearing and knocking back four arrows at once, firing them at Morrigan.  
A gust of wind knocks them off course, spinning them around, and pushing them back towards the Archer, who doesn’t realize it in time, allowing himself to be hit and dissipate into golden dust.  
Lucy, suitably angry, lashes out with her whip, only to have it returned to herself, hitting herself with her own whip.  
“Aww, does that hurt?” Morrigan laughs, pushing a stinging wind towards Lucy, hurting her enough to make tears spring to her eyes.  
Once more, she readies the spell Storm Shred, and sends it spinning in Lucy’s direction, her laugh being heard over the sound of the screaming wind swirling around the arena.  
The poor girl can’t see for fear of getting pebbles in her eyes, and is hit with the Storm Shred spell, ripping apart any clothing but her bare essentials. (55)  
“Boohoo, Lucy’s fallen down. Let’s see if she can get back up!” Morrigan calls out, the wind dying down a bit, but not enough to let anyone but her stand in it. Pulling back her leg, she slams it into Lucy’s curled up figure, the leather boot hurting quite a bit with that power behind it.  
The Celestial Mage cries out in pain, and Laxus is looking physically ill at this sight. (56)  
Morrigan kicks her a few more times, before halting and stopping the wind’s roars.  
“I believe we have a winner!” calls out Jason, as Lucy can’t seem to get back up.  
Morrigan smiles wickedly, and chirps for Hugo, who obediently gives her her raven feather cloak and sits on her shoulder. “I knew this would happen. I foresaw it. You had no chance.”  
Morrigan walks back to her team’s place, exiting the stadium and getting slapped with so many high fives it almost gives her wrist problems.  
I smile, looking at the stadium’s reaction. It’s pretty split, but a decisive victory over each competitor with us winning each battle, is not easy to ignore. Some still have hope.  
It will soon be crushed.

Up next is Natsu vs. Cobra, although Cobra isn’t allowed to use Cubellios, nor Natsu able to use Happy. The pairing should be interesting, especially since Cobra is burning up for revenge against Natsu. (57)  
“Is this going to interesting?” asks Bickslow, and I smirk, breaking my gaze from the arena where they are warming up.  
“It will be extremely interesting.” I say, and turn my head back to the battlefield.  
“Who do you think will win?”  
“Cobra. Natsu may have a lot of capacity for pain, but Cobra is a lot tougher than he was when he was beaten last. He hasn’t failed a contract yet.” I say confidently, but consider the odds carefully. Natsu has his Lightning-Fire Dragon Mode, and as good as Cobra is, that is a tough thing to beat.  
The battle starts, and I watch, marking down any new moves that Natsu might have learned in the almost 16 years since I last fought him. It is imperative to remember what you might be fighting in the future, and I plan to be prepared for every contingency.  
The battle starts, and I find it rather boring, no crazy mismatch grabbing my attention, no witty comments, just violence between two Dragon Slayers.  
Rubble is created throughout the arena as the two hit each other into the walls of the stadium, shaking the seats of the audience and scaring more than a few people with their destructive behavior. (58)  
The battle was actually over relatively quickly, not lasting very long as Cobra, after giving a feint attack, hit Natsu with a direct attack, poisoning him and leaving him unable to continue fighting. (59) Natsu’s shriek of pain sounded for a long time, and the whimpers are still in hearing range of almost anyone.  
Cobra smugly walked out of the arena, as the rest of the team congratulated him on his victory, with Orion calling for a bar night, ‘regardless of what happens the rest of the day.’  
I chuckle slightly at their antics, and then still at the next match.  
“The next match is between the Wizard Saint Jura and Ortelloth!” Jason squeaks into the loudspeaker, and the contestants emerge, Ortelloth dressed in loose clothing, exposing a previous guild mark from a Dark Guild that was destroyed by her when she left it. It’s right between her breasts, and the top angles itself in a triangle that stops just by her belly button. The sleeves extend past her hands, hiding them from view, and the dip for the ‘v’ can actually be smaller, the unzipped material that could cover her shoulders much more completely flopping over onto the tops of the sleeves.  
Her sarong rides up a bit, held up by a belt in a slight dip, bending like her body and pointing downwards. Two metal circles, composed of smaller ones, are around her mid calves, the only adornment on her legs. Her hair is in a circle on the back of her head, hanging down. It’s kept together with the same type of metal that’s on her legs. On her ears are elven jewellery, making her ears appear pointed. Half of her face is hidden behind her hair, a beautiful dark brown that shimmers in the sunlight.  
Jura steps out of the opposite ends, his beard looking mildly singed and his robes looking much the same, although his hands are actually quite burnt.  
“Go!” Jason calls out.  
Jura wastes no time, conjuring up a block of earth and sending it Ortelloth’s way. She stops it with a wave of her arm, heating it up with just a touch and sending it back at the Saint.  
He attempts to control it, but finds it much more difficult than before, the deed impossible actually. The man dives out of the way before it hits him, instead hitting the wall behind him and shaking the foundations of the arena.  
“If the contestants keep using such force on the walls, the whole stadium might collapse spontaneously before this Games is over.” I mutter, and Bickslow nods in agreement before he can stop himself.  
I shake off the thought and turn my attention back to the fight between basic forces of nature here.  
Jura’s attempting to talk to her. This should be interesting. “You seem like a formidable opponent. What is your magic?”  
Ortelloth responds by extending her power into the ground below her, sending Jura flying with but a thought, her magic making the once steady earth here erupt like a volcano. Jura comes back down, and hits her with a block of earth like a club.  
She jumps back, attempting to find purchase and doing so. Using her magic, she forces him back to an unsteady place, where the earth itself is bubbling and rumbling unlike it should be. Jura looks at her, and speaks. “I’ve done this dance before, with Hot-eye. You have nothing on him.”  
“I am Ortelloth, and you will fear my name before this battle is over.” my Sister speaks evenly, and douses him in molten hot lava, erupting under her magic, the very earth beneath his very feet.  
The man breaks out once it’s cool, which is expected, though it allows Ortelloth some time to create golems for keeping him busy.  
Molten lava golems keep him busy as he summons blocks of earth to defend himself, each being melted through by the heat of the beings. Gathering her magic up in a bundle, Ortelloth releases it into the atmosphere, a magical sphere placing itself around the arena completely. (60) With that, she fills up the sphere with molten lava and magma, the heat not allowing any of it to cool into stone or earth for Jura to use.  
The golems disappear into the lava from whence they came, and Jura finally realizes what’s happening. Desperately, he tries to use some of it, and, to an extent, he succeeds, but Ortelloth is immune to any kind of heat, a byproduct of her Eruption magic.  
Several moments after Jura disappears beneath the molten rock, Ortelloth dissipates the spell, releasing it back into the earth and returning most of it to normal, but keeping Jura in a small sphere of lava still.  
Five minutes later, she releases it, and Jura tumbles out of the magical prison, alive, but just barely, thanks to Ortelloth.  
“The Wizard Saint Jura is down!” announces Jason, who is no longer shocked at my people winning.  
As they shouldn’t be.

Five more battles to go, and the crowd has yet to tire of them. Next up is Bacchus vs. Midnight.

Obviously, the drunkard that is Cana’s favorite drinking buddy (61) is no match for Midnight, who merely reflected all of his attacks with perfect ease. Palm Magic is not the best tactic against someone with Reflection Magic.  
Racer is eager for his fight, mainly because it’s up against Lyon, one of the people who was responsible for beating him when he was part of the Oracien Seis, like Cobra was eager to beat up Natsu. New tricks have made Racer into a good Brother, though his arrogance is still a small problem. It doesn’t matter as long as he gets the job done and the client satisfied, the victim dead. As a matter of fact, he’s very good at bypassing security systems and forces, getting into places within a blink of an eye, out in the same, if not less time.

Up against Lyon, Racer takes his revenge against the squirt, taking him down easily, definitely compared to before. This time he doesn’t have Gray to help him, and without Gray’s help, he’s a goner. Before he joined us, too, Racer could have whipped Lyon, but when they joined forces, Gray and Lyon, it was a bit much. Now, however, it is easier to take down the little shrimp, no matter how powerful he might be now.  
Racer walks away smugly from the battle with his head held high, while Lyon twitches on the ground in pain.

Jason speaks over the microphone, “Eve vs. Erigor is up next, folks! Stick around to see the show as the Trimen’s snowiest member battles it out with the previous Death God of Eisenwald!”

I chuckle behind my hand as Eve whoops Erigor’s ass in the arena.  
“Don’t Morrigan and Erigor use basically the same magic?” Bickslow asks beside me.  
“More or less, yes. The difference is that Morrigan has more magical aptitude and training is a top priority for her, while Erigor’s is usually just to complete contracts and stay ahead of normal mages, which he’s done quite well, but he’s not exceptional. Besides, Eve is actually quite powerful. Not many can pull off a Snow Sunder spell and still be breathing.”  
My Mate looks at me, something akin to shock on his face. Surprise, that’s it.  
“What?” I ask, looking at him.  
“I’ve never heard you bad mouthing your own people before.”  
“It’s not bad mouthing; I’m stating facts. Erigor is a good Brother, but he isn’t anywhere near Morrigan’s level.” I state, and look at the aftermath. Two fights are left, and the next one is starting just now.

Five minutes later, Rustyrose is lying on the ground barely moving after being beaten by Jenny.  
Her Machina Soul is very powerful, and she got in the first shot because she used her Transformation magic to distract him.  
Bickslow can’t stop laughing at his former enemy. He was the reason that Rustyrose fell on Tenrou Island, and I can’t blame him. First off, the matchup really favored Rustyrose, and instead, he fell within the first five minutes. Secondly, he got beaten with minimal difficulty by Jenny, who didn’t even break a sweat.  
Wow. I’m glad this day is almost over. Only Flare Corona and Vidaldus are left.

Somehow, Vidaldus wins. Still not sure how that happened, but I think it has something to do with him making Flare his Succubus and convincing her to give up. She’s fine, as is he, but he still wins.  
That’s the last battle of the day. Jason announces the next challenge will take place tomorrow to determine the battles for the day, but now it’s over for the day.

We leave the box, and find an angry Nightshade on the doorstep. “I thought I would be competing today.” she growls out, and I sigh, not wanting to deal with this.  
“No, you will compete tomorrow. Satisfied?” I reply, and she grumpily turns away, walking down the steps to join the rest of the team for drinking, to both Killian’s memory and their victories. (62)  
“Who was that?” Bickslow asks, his brow furrowed as if he’s trying to determine who that is.  
I ignore the question, leading the way towards the palace again, where we will be staying until tomorrow morning, to return to the games, cheering on whomever we choose.  
If I can survive this awkward silence, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 53- I feel slightly bad about this- Lucy is a nice person, from what I've heard, even nicknamed the 'Light of Fairy Tail.' But you can't deny that, even now, she dresses rather... eh. Actually, if she likes to, go ahead.  
> 54- Probably.  
> 55- No girl should ever be naked in front of an audience, especially during a battle.  
> 56- Then again, he looks physically ill anyway, after the battle he just fought.  
> 57- Natsu beat Cobra when he was still with the Oracion Seis. It wasn't pretty.  
> 58- It is, however, mostly Natsu's. He misses several times and injures himself more than once.  
> 59- Cobra got fangs over the years, making him ideal for assassinations that need to happen covertly and quickly. It also helps that he can make them just painful- modifying poison that enters his body is something he can do subconsciously now. Any poison that has ever entered his body can be recalled.  
> 60- Not including the stands, thankfully.  
> 61- And possibly more.  
> 62- Erigor and Rustyrose will undoubtedly be drowning their sorrows together. Hopefully with just drink, but I don't care. They won't be distractible since they won't be competing from now on.


	7. Battle in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is The Island Part 2 (Dusk) by Pendulum.

Surprise! I survived.  
The second day of the Grand Magic Games is starting out with a challenge, like last time. In it are the people who weren’t caught in the Hide and Seek game, as well as the remaining people who weren’t beaten to a bloody pulp yesterday.  
“Contestants for the challenge are: Morrigan, Noctus, Cobra, Orion, Ortelloth, Midnight, Racer, Eve, Jenny, Vidaldus, Nightshade, Sting, Erza, Mirajane, Obra, Millianna, Rogue, Rocker, Gajeel, Wendy, Sherria, Levy, Minerva, Arana, and Hibiki!” Jason announces, and I walk out onto the field. Decimus already arranged the plans for the challenge with Fukuro, who has a better understanding of magical physics than his partner. (63)  
I carefully consider the arena’s floor, wondering exactly how level it is. This was going to be a fun challenge to weave together.  
In both hands, I hold a Destruction spell, ready to pour out ice on the stadium floor. Starting the spells, ice starts to slowly creep along the earthen floor, the last place to be covered is beneath my feet.  
Luckily, Jason is keeping the crowd occupied with a running commentary on the possibilities, allowing me to focus on my task, making the ice as slippery as can be. Fukuro, once I give the signal that I’m done, scoops me up and flies me back into the stadium walls, safe and sound.  
“Your task is to not slip, slide, or fall down.” says Jason, as Fukuro sets me down and steps back, letting me dust myself off and thank Fukuro before having to hasten off to the private viewing box.  
“Easy enough.” say several of them, and I smile.  
Jason speaks before the contestants can dismiss it. “This ice is so cold, you might get freezer burn, so to speak. If I were you, I’d keep moving. There will be people who can fly, to take anyone who is down out of the arena.”  
My Siblings understand the warning, though the others are understandably skeptical. (64)  
Jason, though, doesn’t care for their concerns, and counts down. “On your mark, get set, go!”  
All the contestants are ordered onto the floor, and those with any sense will be calm and proceed as such.  
Noctus, almost immediately, slipped in high heels, cursing as she went down, but her bag managed to hit Mira, knocking her down too.  
As I watch, I can’t help but look on as I consider how stupid that was. Eventually I can’t contain it, and start laughing.  
Bickslow looks at me like I’m half demented, before I explain, gasping out, “That was the stupidest thing I have ever seen.”  
He realizes, too, exactly what the fuck we just saw, and starts laughing as well.  
“Orion’s down. I repeat, Orion is down. And for a model, Jenny isn’t exactly the most sure-footed, and forget about falling gracefully.” Jason comments, looking at the events unfolding.  
Morrigan’s too busy laughing at Noctus to notice when Eve hits her, making them both fall down. As that happens, she doesn’t even care, she’s laughing too much.  
Cobra’s accidentally tackled by Sting, next throwing him off him while Sting yells “NO HOMO!”  
Once Sting is airborne, the poison Dragon Slayer yells at him, “WHAT THE HELL, MAN?”  
“Sting! I thought we had a connection!” Rogue yells at his partner, who looks guiltily at the Shadow Dragon Slayer.  
Gajeel looks around confused, muttering, “Didn’t someone just yell ‘no homo?’ Where is all this come from?”  
“I don’t want to toot my own horn, guys, but I knew that Cobra was gay.” states Morrigan, making Cobra glare at her.  
“I AM NOT GAY!” he yells, whilst being picked up by a flyer.  
“Of course not, Cobra. Why would we think that?” comments Nightshade, still on the field.  
“I mean, it’s not like you spend hours picking out the perfect gift for Midnight. I mean, no, clearly, that’s not a sign.” Noctus adds in, all three of them looking at the infuriated Dragon Slayer.  
This causes Nightshade to lose her concentration, slipping and falling on her ass, making Morrigan laugh. “You idiot.” she remarks, laughing, from the stands where the flyer set her down. Orion is next to her, as is Noctus. On the other side of the stadium sit Mirajane, Jenny, Eve, and Sting so far.  
Ortelloth, not even moving since she got there, is still calmly standing, although her face breaks into a smile at the joking. With a single stomp of her feet, she sends ripples through the surface of the ice, causing Minerva to trip and crash into Gajeel, Rocker, and Rogue.  
“Go Ortelloth!” screams a girl who literally just appeared in the stands, already waving and dancing with pom poms.  
“Oh, hey Kessie, what’s up?”  
“I’m cheering on Ortelloth! Go, big O!”  
Ortelloth turns around to wave to her girlfriend, although she’s probably more confused at her appearance, and is immediately hit by Arana.  
Kessie grits her teeth and winces at the impact of her girlfriend. “She’s… gonna be upset about that…. I know! I’ll go get her an otter pop!” With a snap, Kessie disappears, teleporting away and back again in about ten seconds. (65)  
“It’s Midnight, Racer, and Vidaldus against the mages Arana, Wendy, Sherria, Levy, Hibiki, Obra, Millianna, and Erza!” Jason announces, and the three mages left on our side look amongst themselves, trying to figure out who would go next.  
Too bad the choice is made for them, when Millianna pushes two of them down, Midnight and Racer. Vidaldus grabs her magic binders, pulling her forward and knocking both her and Arana over. They have the last trick, though, pulling back and pulling him over as well.  
“And on the part of Vidaldus Taka, we have our next contestants and the match ups! The following contestants will not partake in today’s matches: Wendy, Sherria, Levy, Erza, Hibiki and Obra!” Jason nearly screams into the microphone.  
The last contestants standing leave the stadium to their seats, ready to support their friends and those fighting against my Family.

Jason calls up Vidaldus, asking him to choose which way the challenge will go, with him at the foremost or at the end.  
“I’ll go at the end! Rock n’ roll!” he screams at the terrified announcer, Jason, who gulps and then nods at the write of the match ups.  
Noctus is first, against Mirajane.  
“Ugh, you’re kidding me. I went second last time!”  
“And now you’re going first. It’s a step up, wouldn’t you say?” says Kessie, looking at her filed nails.  
“How is she here?” Nightshade asks Morrigan.  
“Don’t ask that question.” her superior replies, petting Hugo, currently situated on her knee.  
“Why not?” Nightshade continues.  
“You like being sane? Don’t ask about Kessie.” she concludes, not saying more on the subject. Nightshade warily looks at her Sister, who doesn’t notice, playing with Ortelloth’s hair as she pulls her head into her lap. Her girlfriend doesn’t put up a fight.

Noctus, frowning like the little girl she acts like most of the time, looks calmly at the She Demon across from her, Mirajane Strauss.  
“It’s a shame they can’t get me a real competitor.” she states disdainfully, brushing off a spec of dust on her shorts.  
Mirajane just narrows her eyes, the long pink dress she’s wearing gently swaying in the wind. “You killed my brother. You aren’t going anywhere.”  
Noctus focuses on her opponent again, and smiles. “I did? I don’t recall.”  
The match begins, and both use spells, Noctus blocking out the light and Mira transforming into her Satan Soul form.  
Mira roars, flying at Noctus, who simply pulls out a Darkness spell, making Mira spiral around in complete darkness.  
Unfortunately, however, Mirajane has different ideas, as the demon woman tears through the spell without batting an eye, making Noctus sputter in surprise. Mirajane rams into her opponent, taking her into the other end of the already quite damaged stadium, slamming her into the wall. Not letting go, the demon woman, holding Noctus’ ankle, twists around and smashing her into the same wall, just to the left.  
With another heave, the demon woman hurls my Sister into the opposite wall. (66)  
The she demon didn’t bother to hurry over, merely deciding to walk to her prey, who was helpless against the strength of her power.  
Noctus, however, has never been a quitter. Shaking, she stands, and brushes off some blood that’s accumulated on her face from the hits she’s already taken.  
“That’s not cute. That’s not cute at all.” Noctus says, trembling. A dark aura is radiating off her, and Mirajane pauses in her tracks, before smirking and continuing onwards. She’s five feet from her opponent when Noctus takes a hesitant step forward, her magic swirling around her in the darkness.  
Bickslow and I are on the edges of our seat, eager to see the outcome. As both of us being vampires, we can see perfectly in the darkness, and with Bickslow’s ability to see souls, he can get a clearer picture than any of us.  
“You killed my brother. I think you not being something you want is fair, don’t you think? Like, alive.” Mirajane says, gathering dark magic in her hands, forming it into a ball.  
Noctus does nothing but take another step towards Mirajane, and another.  
The girl is only three steps away from Mirajane now, and the demon woman releases her spell, unmistakably Soul Extinction.  
Noctus doesn’t even falter, not even seeming to notice the spell, continuing her slow crawl to the demon woman.  
Looking worried now, Mirajane takes a step back, as Noctus takes one forward. The spell is still going, but neither are affected by it. Unfortunately, with spells like that, you just have to stick it out. Mira takes yet another recoiling step, as Noctus takes another forward one. (67)  
Finally, Mira’s fear takes over, as she moves several steps backwards, not just one, into the exact center of the arena. Noctus has disappeared into the darkness of the spell.  
Something’s tickling my senses.  
I close my eyes, trying to hone in on the subject of the disturbance, and locate it.  
It’s Noctus, activating her more dangerous magic, and her other form is on standby. (68)  
She must have been powering up a spell, because she emerges from the gloom of Soul Extinction to punch Mira in the face with magically charge hands.  
Her umbrella is lying discarded where the dark spell of Mira’s started, letting everyone know the seriousness of this, whether they will get the hint or not.  
Noctus loves her umbrellas, especially the cutest ones, because they hide who she is, and who she thinks she is. Her motto is, “Once in darkness, you can’t see the true nature of people. Only what they wish you to believe.”  
She learned darkness magic because she thought it was a nice additional magic for an assassin, and for the fact that she could use it primarily and distract people from her nature.  
Noctus uses Death Magic, and she’s damn proficient at it. More skilled than anyone I’ve ever seen; she told me a story once about first learning about it. She took to it like a fish to water, but even more so.  
They need it to survive; to an extent, she did, too, but unfortunately, the people she grew up with did not see it in the same way. As a girl, she was innocent, sweet, and then her magic burst out of her, killing the entire population of a store she was in, including her mother. A tragic backstory, but, luckily, I was in the town that day. If I hadn’t, I doubt she would have survived. Personally, she was raised alongside Nightshade, raise by her new Family. If anyone was going to win against the she demon Mirajane Strauss, it would be her. She’s the most resilient, the most loyal person I’ve ever known.  
And she’s a fighter.  
The punch sends Mira flying, crashing her into the dirt and sending her in skids. Slowly, the demon woman stands up, her aura radiating outwards and the darkness around her shimmering with magic. Noctus’ power pushes and pulls the surrounding night around them in a hypnotizing manner, her power and natural talent with magic and the dark bending it unconsciously to her will with no effort or thought whatsoever. (69)  
Mirajane makes the first move, nearly flying at her with speed, and my Sister merely dodges, tapping her opponent on the shoulder lightly, but still results in Mirajane getting launched into a wall, while Noctus ducks as her touch sends the woman flying over her head.  
Such is the power of death magic.  
The formerly cute as a button mage is radiating the darkest aura, and as Mira recovers, she switches from just her normal Satan Soul form, into her Ultimate Satan Soul, giving her a boost in magical power, as well as her rage factoring in to make her brutal.  
Noctus didn’t see the first hits coming, nor the next dozen or so.  
A punch hits her square in the jaw, and Noctus goes flying, landing and rolling on the hard ground, getting dust and blood all over her normally pristine clothes.  
Mira is panting, standing still where she landed the first punch on Noctus, and relaxes, chuckling as she walks towards the darkness mage.  
Groaning, Noctus turns over, facing the sky and watching the sun come out, her spell of darkness not able to sustain itself any longer as she’s using Death Magic now.  
Mirajane smiles evilly as she struts over to Noctus’ still body, picking her up by the neck and holding her up, so her feet cannot touch the ground. Then she starts squeezing, almost as if she wants to pop off Noctus’ head.  
“You killed my brother.” she says, glaring at the person in her claws.  
“You deserve to die.” Mira continues, and the crowd is quiet as can be, no one making a sound. The stadium is filled with the sounds of Noctus choking, gasping for air. Mirajane is merciless, not letting her grip up for a second.  
A moment later, she smiles, and is hit with a spell of Death, dust swirling up where the pair was before. The demon mage is cast into the wall of the stadium (70). She gets up, shaking her head to clear it, and looks over at where Noctus should be. Instead of something like a body, there’s only a cloud of dust, kept going by the intense magical power being released there by Noctus.  
With a final burst, it settles the dust, and there stands Noctus, in her other form, her final and most powerful magical defense and attack.  
It’s armor, black as night, covering the body of the mage on her back to the start of her thighs, revealing her guildmark of a black hand on her stomach, right where her belly button is. Also exposed is most of her breasts, and her neck. The armor covers her arms down to her hands, exposing the tips of her fingers like fighter gloves, augmenting her strength. Black boots come up to her knees, made of interlocking parts and enchantments, ensuring she’ll keep her balance no matter what. A dark purple belt marks the end of the exposed skin area, and bands on her armored upper arms, both dark purple, gleam in the sunlight. A choker collar of black circles her neck, with a purple skull hanging off it, and her hair is unseen, under a helmet of black with dark purple outlines, spiky and intimidating. Two strands of hair remain down, a black and a white both.  
Her eyes, however, are startling in their change. Instead of the usual golden orbs residing there, the formerly white part is yellow, and the iris is black. (71)  
Mirajane, as well as the audience, are shocked at the transformation. Even a couple of people in our Family are surprised, though it’s only the ones who haven’t seen her like that before. (72)  
Unfortunately for them, this gives her time to power up a spell, called Rigor Mortis, which paralyzes the people close to the caster. The range is about fifty feet, and at the center of the arena Mirajane cannot escape it.  
As Mirajane attempts to rush her opponent, Noctus releases the spell, making Mira fall over and crash onto the ground, face planting with deadly accuracy.  
The transformed Noctus, panting slightly from the spells and their drainage of her power, jumps up and slams onto Mirajane, a good ten feet away, but pushes her face into the dirt even more. Jumping up again, she slams down on her opponent’s head, probably causing all sorts of damage.  
A few more jumps, and Mira resembles an ostrich, but the paralysis spell is wearing off about now. However, this doesn’t really matter, as the woman has her head buried in dirt and has boot marks on the back of her head, denting the armor plating of her ultimate Satan Soul form.   
Rolling her over with a foot, Noctus kicks her a couple of times, before grabbing her by the hair and dragging her to a wall, slamming her head into it a couple of times before hurling her into the opposite one.  
Struggling, Mira attempts to stand up, but Noctus is having none of it. Wings of black on her back bursting out of her, much like Mira can do, she flies at breakneck speed towards the demon woman, slamming her into the wall again, then spinning around and launching her into the air, where she speeds to catch up. As soon as Mira starts falling, Noctus dives from above, slamming her boot encased feet into the mage and driving her into the ground, rubble flying into the air.  
A spell powers up in her right hand as her left grabs Mira and throws her up again, aiming and firing the spell like a gun. Hitting her, Mira cries out in pain, the only sound she’s made since getting first hit.  
Mira falls, hitting the ground and sending dirt out of it’s natural habitat. Noctus steps carefully after shielding herself with her wings, picking up Mira with one hand, like she did not so long ago, and squeezing.  
Everyone thinks she’s just assuring her victory, but I recognize that. She’s draining her life into herself, and it has to stop. She can kill someone in just a couple of seconds. There’s maybe twenty, thirty even, before Mira’s dead.  
Ten seconds in, and there is no sign of stopping. Noctus has that look in her eye she gets when I’ve watched her kill- she wants to kill her. Needs to.  
Not today, regrettably.  
“Noctus! I order you to stop!” I Shout, making sure she hears me.  
No reaction is given by the person who this is for, although the people in the audience are starting to look worried, as if this is serious.  
I have no choice, and with a simple spell, my previously hidden draconian wings are out, letting me speed through the window, sending glass outwards everywhere. (73)  
In a few moments that felt like eternity, I finally reach Noctus, tackling her to the ground and making her release Mirajane, who crumples to the floor in a heap, unconscious and probably drained of her magic. (74)  
Noctus hits the wall of the stadium with as much momentum as I can get before I release her.  
“NOCTUS, THIS IS YOUR LISTENER. YOU WILL STAND DOWN.” I say to her, hoping to reach her in this state.  
Unfortunately, I don’t think that did it, as she just stands up with anger written on her face. She roars, and I sigh, thinking of anything I can do to make her remember herself.  
“SIL REVAK RII RO AUS AAZ!” I Shout at her, with the meaning filling both her and me, cleansing her of the mindlessness of her other form, and exhausting her. (75)(76)  
As the other form burns away, her skin almost bubbles in the sunlight, and Morrigan runs out, scooping up her umbrella and opening it for her comrade, covering her with as much shade as possible. The formerly cute outfit is now ripped, the striped tights with holes, her shoes not even present, her shorts barely there and her shirt as revealing as possible without showing her cleavage to the world. Hugo takes off Morrigan’s cloak, covering Noctus with it.  
Her Sister helping her up, she’s barely conscious, although she does realize that she fought me, as the terrified look in her eyes makes them as wide as they can be.  
I incline my head, indicating we’ll talk later, and she rests her head on Morrigan’s shoulder. I take flight after making sure that Mirajane is still alive, although the girl is heavily injured and I wouldn’t do anything with those bruises for a while. (77)  
As I take off, I hear Noctus ask, “Did I win?”  
“Yeah, but you made me lose my bet with Vidaldus. I cheered for Mirajane.” Morrigan replies, and Noctus doesn’t even respond other than to nuzzle her friend’s shoulder in either affection or indifference.  
I smile, returning to the private box, aware that every eye in the stadium is on me. The crowd bursts into cheers and applause, hailing me as a savior and a person who is honorable, stuff like that.  
That is…. I don’t know how to feel about that.

Bickslow looks at me, shock and surprise written on his face with nothing else present.  
“Why did you do that?” he asks, whispering, as if he can’t believe it, and I’m turning good right before his eyes.  
“It is much easier to build up publicity in a positive way than to tear down bad publicity with negative vibes, and I just helped on both fronts.” I state, looking at my Mate, whose face almost immediately turns to a scowl. It seems he expected this. (78)  
“Of course.” he stands, walking over to the blood and refilling his goblet, taking a sip and feeling the cool blood, previously like diamonds gritting on the throat, go down as smoothly as warm butter pours out of a bowl.  
I will my wings to return to their dormant state, but they won’t go away, so I just give up and leave them out. My body can be as stubborn as my mind sometimes, and any magical augmentations or body parts that shouldn’t exist are no less stubborn. Besides, they look cool and demonstrate my power. Not only do I have the ability to use an enormous amount of magical power, I can fly with little effort at all. (79)(80)(81)  
He ignores me as I try and maneuver with these additional appendages, although it’s kind of hard to, considering these things have almost hit him at least seven times. (82)  
I sit in my throne, and wait for the next match start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 63- They weren't shared with anyone but themselves and I, who just now saw them. I'm on the field to construct it, nothing more.  
> 64- Hey, I'm not allowed to give special advice to one group; it has to be general. And I've made sure it's going to hurt, although I hope it won't hurt too much.  
> 65- Ten to one odds that she just stole that otter pup. She was supposed to get a pop, what the Sithis?  
> 66- Thank Sithis she was wearing shorts today.  
> 67- What we've got here is a matchup of people who are immune, for the most part, to each other's main powers. This is going to get interesting.  
> 68- Her other form is not pretty.  
> 69- The dark actually responds to her emotions, although it's really tough to determine what they are, even with her emotions not being anywhere near tightly bridled for a person in the Dark Brotherhood. I let it slide, mainly because I don't care enough as long as it doesn't interfere with her work.  
> 70- This seems popular.  
> 71- If you look closely at her in this form, she actually has skulls as pupils. Don't know how she does it.  
> 72- I don't think that she even used this form when taking down Saber Tooth.  
> 73- Mages were beginning to realize someone had to step in, but none of them, except mayhaps Morrigan, would be able to handle Noctus in reality, like this, and she had to save her magic for her battle later. They were, however, instrumental in keeping people safe from the glass.  
> 74- There is a chance she won't be able to fully get her magic back, some of it permanently drained and the container in her body crippled.   
> 75- Briefly translated for those of you not fluent in Dovahzul, it means, literally, Soul Sacred Essence Balance Suffer Mercy. Translated not literally, it means return your soul's sacred essence to balance or suffer my mercy. Which basically means I would've beaten her into the ground had her magic not done as asked.  
> 76- Oh, yes, that was an extension of her soul. Most- scratch that, ALL magic is. It's basically a projection of a soul, and that's why there's such variety, and such difference in the people who use it. It's literally a matter of the heart, soul, body, and mind. The body is basically just a container. The heart decides what it wants, the brain channels it into spells, and the soul is fluid, allowing for willpower to factor in, in the case of endangered friends, or things you care about, et cetera. It's why willpower is important; your soul can literally ingest more Ethernano to give you a boost through your own willpower.  
> 77- A long while.  
> 78- Ridiculous.  
> 79- Of course, not the only thing to fear about me, but it's something they know. The rest of the world shouldn't know about Mates or my weaknesses, et cetera. The power, they should know. They fear and respect power. That's why guilds are still here.  
> 80- Well, and the government is too lazy and too busy to care about magical problems. Although it's actually a huge mess in Fiore. That king was horrid.  
> 81- Oh, yeah, my Draconian aspects have gotten worse, or better, whichever perspective you look at. The wings can fully support me now.  
> 82- Ignoring them is probably very dangerous. I will also not be held responsible for any accidental whacks to any part of the body.


	8. Getting Serious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is I Can't Stop by Flux Pavilion.

Jason starts the next match with a cry of, “Go!” and letting Jenny and Orion fight.  
I’d be paying close attention to this, normally, mostly because Orion is one of my best assassins and I love supporting my Family, but in an unexpected burst and drain of my magical power, several Zodiac spirits come through their gates.  
First of them all is Leo, who is quickly accompanied by Virgo, Gemini, Aries, Sagittarius, Taurus, Scorpio, Capricorn and Cancer. Those who participated in Lucy’s battle yesterday are still injured, and I can feel my magic being the only thing from stopping them from both excruciating pain and vanishing back into the Celestial Spirit realm.  
“WHY WOULD YOU HURT LUCY?” yells Leo, Regulus powering up in his fists.  
“Calm down, Leo. You cannot hurt me and you know it.” I say dismissively, examining him with my eyes in a tired fashion. Leo, ever since his other key has been possessed by Lucy Heartfilia, is extremely protective of her. When I battled her some time ago, he was not pleased at all. This time, it wasn’t even me.  
“No, but we can hurt your Family.” he spits the last word, as if that will correct any hurt feelings he has over his beloved Lucy getting hurt by Morrigan. (83)  
So far, he’s the only one that has spoken, but I think that he’s the most angry. The others wouldn’t really hold much or a grudge against anyone hurting their Lucy if it is in the name of battle, not even Horologium, who is probably so damaged he’ll likely only be fully healed in a month, their time. (84)  
I’m about to respond again, when I hear a, “KO!” from Jason.  
I push aside Leo to look at the field, and find Jenny still standing while Orion is twitching on the ground.  
I guess the other spirits don’t think this is such a bright idea as most of them vanish with poofs of magic, and only Leo and Virgo remain.  
“Apologize to our Hime.” she demands, her eyes attempting to pierce me.  
I look at the both of them, and narrow my eyes. Both are determined, however, and, as punishment, I cut off my flow of magic to them, causing them to vanish in Forced Gate Closures. I would punish them, but what good would that do? Not very much, especially considering how long I have possessed their keys, and exactly how long I will continue to do so.  
Sighing in annoyance, I sit down again, both agitated and irritated, waiting for the next match, between Eve and Morrigan to start.

Morrigan’s POV

“The next battle will be Eve Tearm of Blue Pegasus against Morrigan!"  
Glaring up at the box, I sighed at the name, then, just as I did last time, cast off my cloak to Hugo. The raven had been my loyal partner since I accidentally killed him when we were mere kids, pushing him from a tree. The dove had turned black the minute I bound Hugo’s soul to it. My skin, once golden, turned near-white and hasn't changed tone since.  
Hugo was my younger brother; and my ability to bind souls to other living animals was one that not even Listener knew about. I dislike keeping such a secret, but I believe it to be for the better.  
Now, across from me and looking up at my brother is a young blonde. I know he uses snow magic from his first-round fight, but little else; so I must step with caution.  
"Eve Tearm!" I called, smirking. "I cannot see the end of this battle. You must be worthy if you can last more than five minutes."  
He just crouched a little, readying himself. Under me, wind swirled, lifting me in the air as snow began drifting around him. As soon as I heard the battle begin, I decided to take a less magical approach to this fight.  
I reached out, my sword appearing in my right hand.  
"White Out!" Eve yelled, and the temperature dropped as snow swirled into the arena. Feeling the metal quickly growing colder in my hand, I summoned a swirl of warm wind from above, the air around me was heated, and I swung my sword at the young Trimen, who dodged.  
The metal blade slammed against the stone and, with a thundering ring, my sword cracked and exploded.  
The entire world seemed to stop in that moment. I had fought with that sword since before I joined up with Listener, cleaned it every night, sharpened the edge whenever it dulled. I had kept that sword since I first led Hugo on a journey, running from our hometown.  
And this... this brat... Just broke it.  
A powerful wind blasted out around me, knocking Eve off his feet. The blonde seemed... I couldn't describe it. I heard someone shout to 'get out of there.' Eyes flashing, I recognized the emotion finally: he was fearful. Terrified, even.  
As he should be.  
I'll put the damn brat in the infirmary's ICU if I have to resort to clawing his eyes out myself.

Listener’s POV  
I pity that man in the arena against Morrigan. He might be powerful, but he’s got a strong possibility of dying out there. I don’t know if I should try and stop it before it starts or not. Hopefully, Morrigan can just injure him. I don’t care what she does, as long as she doesn’t kill him. Injure him enough so that he almost dies, sure, but anything more than that and I’ll have to intervene.  
I hope she knows that.  
Oh, wait, she’s Morrigan. Of course she does.  
I am regretting the limitation, though, but I don’t think she’ll really care, mostly because we can kill him later, if she really wishes.  
I cringe with every impact, and boy are they loud. Her fury is not one to be tested.

Minutes later, though, Morrigan has injured Eve to the point of intensive care, and everyone is thinking she might just continue. I’m not even sure what she’s going to do, but it’ll be close either way.  
Finally, she lets up, and, nearly vibrating with energy, she stops, still glaring at his unmoving body.  
Everyone leans in to try and see if he’s alive. Eve gives a tiny groan, letting us know he’s still kicking (85) and the crowd gives out a sigh of relief. Morrigan glares at him some more, then walks off to the team quarters, probably to go punch some equipment through the wall. I hope she can reconjure that hatred tomorrow; I suspect she’ll need it.  
Meanwhile, her sword is still in pieces down there, along with Eve, whose carefully being picked up and carried to the infirmary by Jenny, whose relatively unscathed even after tumbling with Orion.  
Using Telekinesis, I bring up the pieces, and lay them down carefully to one side on a table, already thinking about how to reforge it into a whole sword again. She’ll be happy about that.  
Next battle is between Cobra and Sting. I watch as Morrigan approaches the Dragon Slayer, saying to him, “Kick his ass.” in encouragement.  
I smile, and settle in with a gobletful of blood for the battle. Considering how well Cobra performed against Natsu last round, Sting will be beaten to a pulp when Cobra’s done with him.

I wince yet again before smiling as Cobra slams Sting into the ground, sending vibrations into the floor of the stadium, the ice long melted, and I smile yet again as the White Dragon Slayer cannot get back up.  
“Cobra wins!” Jason states into the microphone, and I believe he’s finally realizing that we are winning everything possible, so you might as well cheer for the winners.  
“Next up is Nightshade and Minerva!” he says, and I look at the people waiting for the battle to begin.  
It will be a tense battle.

The battle starts, and Minerva immediately unleashes her Territory magic, teleporting some rubble directly over Nightshade’s head. Smirking, Nightshade summons her magic up, and tentacles sprout from the ground, holding up the rocks, then flinging them at Minerva. Her shocked expression at the fact that there were tentacles that weren’t there a second ago is priceless.  
She’s almost buried under piles of rubble, had she not teleported away. Her movements are tracked, however, and as soon as she sets down, she’s seized by tentacles from Nightshade’s magic. Her visor glints in the sunlight, the black ebony enchanted piece completely blocking her eyes and her sight. Minerva, taking in the appearance of her opponent, seems shocked at both her choice of apparel and her magic.  
Nightshade is wearing her hair in two pigtails at the back of her head, held in form with twin ponytail holders, longer than normal to keep them in place and at her back. A few strands still linger at the front of her face, but don’t seem to bother her, as the visor probably indicates. The accessory is held in place by her ears, pointed and dangling with gems. A choker collar necklace with spikes on it encircles her neck. Accompanying it is a small covering from her neck to her breasts, which covers her back slightly, in black and gray, providing a small window for her cleavage, on display from the armor that covers her midsection and her chest. The shorts, black and red, expose her thighs down to her knee high boots, black leather. A belt, dark brown and accented red, is on her waist; she’s got enough supplies for anything. Her right arm is adorned with a small black band, circling her bicep and tricep. Her hands on both sides are in fingerless gauntlets, bordered red at the ends nearest her torso. A smile on her lips ensures that the Territory mage opposite her is terrified.  
Minerva, on her part, teleports herself out of the tentacles’ hold, only a little worse for the wear. Her previously chic and whole boots are torn already, and her dress, revealing as it may have been, is now dangerously close to exposing her. The only thing not messed up about her appearance is her hair. (86)  
“How are you able to do that?” Minerva asks, probably hoping to confuse her opponent.  
“Simple. I have sensory magic.” She replies, and throws her fist backwards, hitting Minerva as she teleports to directly behind Nightshade.  
“Nothing surprises me.” she continues, slamming her body down, swiping her legs around and tripping Minerva. The Territory mage goes down as Nightshade rights herself, spawning tentacles and suspending Minerva in the air, pulling her limbs as far apart as she could, even twisting some out of their sockets, making Minerva scream in pain.  
“Are you ready to give up yet?” Nightshade says, her arms crossed and looking at her opponent with satisfaction.  
Minerva’s face contorts in humiliation, and she teleports again, tearing off Nightshade’s visor and tumbling away from her opponent, triumphantly holding it up before the crowd.  
Nightshade immediately gasps, her magic flaring out as her hand goes to cover her eyes. (87)  
Everyone on our team exchanges glances, and then Morrigan leads the applause for Minerva.  
“Great job, numbskull! You’ve ensured defeat. Your humiliating, awful, painful, defeat.” she yells, and starts slow clapping.  
Minerva looks sideways at the section of the crowd yelling and cheering, and then again at the visor. One more glance up at where Nightshade is seems to terrify her, and Nightshade tackles her, slamming both of them into the ground, but Minerva switches their positions through teleportation, and explodes the ground beneath her.  
Unfortunately for Minerva, tentacles reach up, catching Nightshade while, again, restraining Minerva, holding her up and shaking her upside down. The skirt of her dress flips down, just barely covering her parts, and Nightshade stands up, the back of her armor scorched from the explosion. Her hair almost covers her eyes, and the mage pulls back her bangs, hiding her eyes with the same hand. The other takes ahold of Minerva’s head, pulling it to look at her.  
“You wanted to see my eyes?” Nightshade states, forcing her opponent to gaze into them.  
Minerva almost instantly starts screaming, as Nightshade doesn’t break eye contact as she conjures up a sword. Slashing this way and that, the blade almost dances across Minerva’s flesh, carving into her with precision until Nightshade felt that is enough. Bringing out a dagger, she sets herself the task of carving the Black Hand into Minerva’s stomach, just barely breaking the skin, but with enough pressure to make sure that it will scar. The blood flows from the previous cuts down to Minerva’s head, with her choking on her own blood and the visual contact between the two is broken.  
The rest of the team from the Black Hand sits in almost terrified awe, as Kessie eats popcorn. “You didn’t need foresight to see this coming.” she says, and offers the bag of popcorn around. “Popcorn, anyone?”  
Several people, including Morrigan, take the offer, as Kessie conjures up a bag of popcorn for everyone, regardless of their answer. Morrigan tosses the popcorn, kernel by kernel, into the air, with her magic guiding it into her mouth. She snacks on the tasty treat as she nods her head in agreement with Kessie. “Indeed, the moment that Minerva took away Nightshade’s visor, she sealed her fate.”  
The carving done, Nightshade puts away the dagger, instead bringing out a whip while backing up a bit for proper room. Lashes arrive on Minerva’s skin, making it raise itself in welts and go from red from blood to red from both heat and the whip’s strike. The whip marks her all over, tearing off much of Minerva’s clothes and revealing almost everything she has to the world. She’s crying from the pain, and the Saber Tooth guild is roaring for her to stop.  
I tilt my head to the side. Minerva’s actually not close to death; a whip is used for torture for a very specific reason. It doesn’t really allow people to die when it’s used on them, unlike a battleaxe. (88)  
Nightshade is, however, dangerously close to losing control, which I can recognize after years of being around her.  
I signal Jason, who announces immediately, “Nightshade wins!” in an effort to stop her.  
A few moments later, the whip stills, and Nightshade, panting, lets it disappear, as well as the tentacles holding Minerva in place. She drops unceremoniously to the floor, and groans.  
Good. She’s alive.  
Nightshade takes one last look at her bleeding body, as Minerva’s guildmates run out onto the field to help her. Nightshade turns around, and exits the stadium, before flashing a one eyed look up at my box. The green eye is unmistakable, but hopefully Bickslow wasn’t paying attention.

Everyone is shocked about the outcome and events of the last battle, except for our family members, who, I am told by Morrigan, started taking bets on how long Nightshade would torture Minerva. (89)(90)  
Jason, desperate to get the conversation away from this, starts the next match. “It’s Ortelloth against Gajeel of Fairy Tail! Stay to watch the climactic battle of the Iron Dragon Slayer versus the person who took down Jura the Wizard Saint!”  
Unfortunately for Ortelloth, her eruption magic doesn’t quite work against Gajeel’s metal. She just ends up hurrying her own defeat by pulling it out of his body.  
Midnight is facing down Rocker, next, and after that is Rogue and Racer, and the last battle is slated to be Millianna and Vidaldus, but Arana is still there, and we can’t have her working with someone against one of mine.  
I spend the majority of the remaining battles trying to figure out who she could fight that hasn’t fought today, or been eliminated. Finally, as Vidaldus strikes the last blow on Millianna, slamming her into the walls of the stadium, which she slid off of without getting back up, I think up a solution.  
I run out the doors to get to Jason’s box as soon as I can, and tell him who Arana is facing.  
He shrugs, then turns around and announces that she will be fighting.

On the field, I pull out a soul gem made of onyx, and watch Arana enter the field across from me. Making a conjuration spell focus on the object in my hands, I murmur an enchantment. “Solvo unus anima continentur intra hoc gemma.”  
After a few seconds, a sort of smoke exits the container, taking the form of a lanky man with animal traits and a sinister grin on his face.  
He turns to face me, asking, “If I do your bidding, I’m free to go, right?”  
“Once you defeat that woman, yes.” I nod towards Arana on the opposite side of the stadium.  
The gem is back where it’s supposed to belong as I exit, watching what’s happening on the field. Jackal is sizing up his prey, then smiling again as people everywhere look confused at the appearance of the demon. (91)  
I hurry back to the private box to watch Jackal use his curse power to hit Arana with a powerful kick in the stomach, his skin so hot that it burns away any threads that dare to touch him.  
I watch from my throne as everyone looks on at the sight of a demon beating up a member of Mermaid Heel, especially so easily.

After about 5 minutes, Arana cannot get back up, and Jason announces that Jackal wins. As soon as that’s done, Jackal turns to face me, and I nod, releasing him from his confinement. The former demon disappears, and everyone looks around confused, even the team members.  
Bickslow peeks at me, and then opens his mouth to ask me, only to be cut off by Jason.  
“The victors of today’s matches are Noctus, Jenny, Morrigan, Cobra, Nightshade, Gajeel, Midnight, Rogue, and Vidaldus!” the excited announcer nearly screams into his microphone.  
And with that, it’s the end of the second day of the Grand Magic Games.

Bickslow asks me as we’re walking back to the palace, at a calm pace with a fur muff warming my hands. (92)  
“How did you get Jackal there?” he asks, watching my expression. We keep walking, although I look ahead, before glancing at his own face.  
I laugh. “There is still much magic that you do not know about in this world. I kept the demon souls from the Book of Zeref that I encountered, after the whole Tartaros guild thing that occured a couple of years ago. I thought it would be worthwhile to capture their souls, in the event that I ever needed to use them. They’ve definitely come in handy now.” I explain, and he nods, swallowing the explanation.  
“Why didn’t you stop Nightshade?” he questions once we’re at the palace gates.  
“A whip won’t really kill someone, that’s why it’s preferred as a torture weapon. The welts raised by the hits can’t kill someone, although if she had kept up with the knife, I would have had to, eventually. I didn’t want to do that, in any case, just like how I didn’t want to intervene with Mirajane and Noctus, but I did. Do you have any more questions?” I ask him in turn, and he remains silent, so I take that as a no.  
Hopefully the next day is eventful, much like this one has been.

The next day, as always, starts with a challenge, letting the people wonder who will be facing who later on in the same day.  
“Today, instead of everyone competing, only a select few will! We need volunteers of three from each side for a water-based challenge!” Jason states, and almost immediately Morrigan steps out of the line up, as does Midnight and Vidaldus. On the other side, out step Levy, Erza, and Rogue.  
“Contestants, please change into a swimsuit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 83- His obsession with her doesn't even make any sense. She is a Mate to a Dragon Slayer, and has been for some time. He should move on, but, of course, he isn't exactly the sharpest guy ever.  
> 84- Remember how long a simple night is there?  
> 85- Metaphorically. He's in no place to be kicking right now. I think Morrigan broke his leg. That's the least of his injuries, though.  
> 86- I love her hairstyle, so much. How does she do that? It's so elegant. So chic. So lovely. Oh, wait, she's an enemy. Shucks.  
> 87- She seriously hates them.  
> 88- Long story. Torture victims with gold to hide are fun to mess with.  
> 89- This is our Family. It's quite cozy.  
> 90- Kessie won.  
> 91- It's not actually him. More his soul, or essence.  
> 92- Why? Irrelevant. I love it.


	9. Clashes and Wonderments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Rock N' Roll by Skrillex.

Five minutes later, Midnight is out with his pale skin glistening in the sunlight, wearing a pair of swim trunks, while Vidaldus is right next to him in a speedo, rocking out to imaginary music. Morrigan steps out of the changing rooms next to her teammates, in a blue one piece suit with sunglasses on her head. Still, until the actual competition started, she’d wear her coat and boots. Both were black, the coat with a red trim, and were more covering than a swimsuit.  
On the other team, Levy is wearing a two piece with lots of fabric on it, in a lovely green that reminded me of Bickslow’s eyes. (93)  
Erza Scarlet already requipped into a bright red bathing suit that’s barely covering her chest, but she seems confident in her abilities (94). Beside her, Rogue is wearing black trunks, and looking as awkward as ever, but a bandana is holding back his hair.  
Jason pulls a lever, and water starts flooding into the arena, as well as six windsurfing boards. They drop from above by way of the competition being set up. Not sure how.  
“Let the challenge commence!” Jason yells out, and the contestants swim to the nearest one they can find in the water.  
Unsurprisingly, the first one to get going on it is Morrigan, her wind magic giving her a boost in speed and control through the manipulation of the air around her, and the arena.  
“This is fun!” she laughs as she nearly crashes into Levy, who shrieks and falls into the water, off her board.  
Vidaldus is also having a great time, although that might be due to his outfit (95). Every time he can, he uses his Hair Magic to spin around his opponents so they get as confused as possible.  
Midnight’s just floating there, gently, on the waves. Reflection magic. It’s so (96) useful.  
Morrigan, surfing along, bumps into Rogue, who looks at her annoyed, and she just waves at him, going about her merry way, while leaving behind another little surprise and bowling him over with a gust of wind.  
“Erza is the only one left in the arena against Morrigan, Vidaldus, and Midnight!” Jason states, and I’m starting to think that having a fanboy as an announcer is not my best decision.  
Oh well. I watch in amusement as Vidaldus tips himself over and laughs as his hair gets a nice wash.  
Midnight’s still gently floating along, and Morrigan shrugs, turning and heading towards Erza. The two of them start circling like sharks, as Midnight floats in the middle of them.  
All at once, Morrigan unleashes two winds, going around Midnight and swooping down on Erza, throwing her off her board and into the water, causing the Fairy Queen to mumble about revenge, or something. No one is paying attention.  
“Congratulations! Midnight and Morrigan are going to decide the matches of the day!” Jason says, and I narrow my eyes at him in surprise. He shrugs at me, but looks nervous, probably because I could kill him with but a thought.  
Morrigan floats around gently until she comes to a halt near Midnight, and the two of them start talking about it, civilly, as they both sit down and dangle their legs in the water. It’s already quite warm.

“It’s decided, folks!” Jason says, with Morrigan and Midnight dripping in the room with him. They both dunked each other by the end, just to do so. They whisper to him what they decided about the matches.  
“The order of matches is like this: Morrigan vs. Erza, Noctus vs. Jenny, Cobra vs. Wendy, Gajeel vs. Midnight, Rogue vs. Nightshade, and Vidaldus vs. Levy!”  
Morrigan smiles at Midnight, and I’m pretty sure they have a bet going on. My Sister then leaves the box to get ready for the fight against Titania Erza.  
It’ll be a tough fight.

The arena has been drained of water, and the two contestants are waiting for the contest to start. Before it can, though, I walk down to Morrigan, handing her a cloth covered object, longer than my arm. She already dressed in her usual black, more comfortable than in the swimsuit.  
She looks at me questioningly, and then flips off the cloth, gasping when she sees it. Immediately she picks up her longsword, twirling it delicately and with a precision that’s hard to mimic, or even match.  
I smile, Hugo offering to take the cloth, and I let him take it. I walk away with a whispered, “Good luck.”  
She might need it.

The famous Erza Scarlet, Titania Erza, Queen of the Fairies, is about to go up against the Morrigan, a Speaker of the Black Hand. As soon as the match starts, Morrigan calls up a Storm Shred spell, while Erza requips, going immediately to Nakagami Armor. (97)  
Morrigan releases the spell, and as soon as she releases it, she forms two wind guardians, and a vicious wind is already swirling through the stadium.  
Erza cuts through the spell, sending it into the wall behind her by splitting it in two.  
Ah, this is going to be a physical fight, is it? Interesting.  
The guardians attack Erza, as Morrigan charges her, the summoned guardians distracting the famous Titania Erza. She notices, though, and sends a sword toward her opponent, which Morrigan deflects into her own hand, with her longsword in her right and the new one in her left.  
Erza dispels the wind guardians, and raises the halberd to defend herself from the clash of the swords of Morrigan.  
“You know what? I’m glad I got the chance to beat the famous Erza Scarlet.” Morrigan states, grinning evilly and gazing into her opponent’s eyes.  
This angers her, and she shoves her off.  
“I mean, who wouldn’t want the bragging rights to defeating the great Titania Erza. Although, I suppose Gajeel could be an even greater challenge.” Morrigan continues, and Erza charges her in a rage.  
Morrigan moves off with the wind supporting her, flying. “Nope, too slow.”  
“How dare you think you can hurt my friends, and then not be defeated?” Erza says, launching the halberd at Morrigan. She catches it in the wind, and spins it around, aiming it at Erza.  
“You might want to duck.” Morrigan laughs, launching the halberd and watching Erza jump back to avoid it, even trying to go pick it up before Morrigan sends the extra sword, in her left hand, into the handle, splintering it and making it useless.  
“Aww, I’m sorry. Oh, wait, I’m not.” Morrigan says, floating aimlessly out of reach of her opponent.  
Erza, furious, requips into Flight Armor, the cheetah pattern flashing around as she picked up speed, jumping high enough to hit Morrigan, sending her down a few feet.  
“SONIC CLAW!” she calls out, a magic circle appearing as she attempts to hit Morrigan.  
“Emera Baram!” Morrigan responds, crossing her first two fingers of both hands in an ‘x’ formation, hitting Erza square on with her spell.  
The effects generated push Erza into the wall, making an imprint of her on the wall.  
She gets up, shakily, then requips again, into Armadura Fairy armor, and charges up the sword in her hands with energy.  
“Fight me like you should, Morrigan.” she states, and Morrigan, smiling slightly, sets herself down on the ground, albeit hovering slightly off the ground. It’s more fun for her that way; she never leaves any tracks.  
“Come at me, Titania. Or, am I wrong when I say that the actual queen of the fairies is dead? Evergreen, was that her name?”  
Erza narrows her eyes, and charges at Morrigan, roaring incomprehensibly. “NO ONE INSULTS MY GUILD MATES!”  
Morrigan picks up the dismembered blade of the broken halberd from the Nakagami Armor with wind magic, and, as she clashes blades with the great Titania Erza, she unexpectedly moves to the side, letting the broken blade tip stab her enemy in the stomach, right below the ribs and to Erza’s right.  
Withdrawing it with Wind magic, she treats it like a needle, threading it through Erza’s body all over, until she’s bleeding from every limb and nothing would work if she even tried to get up in this state.  
One more requip, however, happens. Adamantine Armor.  
Morrigan backs up, summoning another Emera Baram, as Erza locks together the barrier on the wings.  
“The Phantom Lord Cannon Jupiter could only just barely break through this! You think you can?” Erza shouts above the sound of the magic.  
“I am much more powerful than any give me credit for. I am the Morrigan.” my Sister states, and the Emera Baram spell powers through the air, hitting the barrier and not having much of an effect.  
“The Morrigan is represented by a raven or a crow. I am the raven, and I am the Morrigan.” she states, picking up her sword and using her magic to burrow deep into the earth, until dirt is swirling in a tornado, and a nice hole is dug. Another tornado forms, pulling out magma and using heated air to keep it from hardening. One more tornado goes up into the atmosphere, and comes back laden with water.  
I lean forward. Clever. (98)  
Within a few moments, the spell begins, as the wind writes it itself. The instances I’ve seen before have taken quite some time as it’s a complicated spell, it takes quite a bit of magic, and takes enough time that it’s easy to stop.  
Each segment, a tornado comes forward and writes itself in, using itself up. Already the earth and the water is there, the air is next and then the fire, or magma in this case.  
A few moments later, the air is finished and Erza is getting suspicious, looking around in a nervous way. In another two or three seconds, it won’t matter.  
As soon as it’s done, though, Morrigan waits, holding onto the spell while hovering, looking expectantly at Erza. Finally, she’s trembling with the effort, and releases it, just at the moment that Erza decides to look out and see what’s up. Hurriedly, she tries to fix her mistake, but cannot, not fully, in time.  
She’s hit with the Abyss Break, and flies back into the walls of the stadium, the Adamantine Armor completely shattered (99) and Erza looking as if she can’t even move.  
Morrigan floats over to her opponent, kicking her a couple of times. “Get up. I’m not done with you yet.”  
Erza groans in pain, but makes no effort to get up. Morrigan yanks Erza up by her hair, saying, "Sorry, but my place as the most frightening person in Listener's army is threatened. Please say hello to your friends for me, yes?"  
After a few moments, she moves away. “Huh. You aren’t nearly as good as everyone says you are. Guess it won’t be much of a bragging right now.”  
With that, Morrigan walks out of the arena, and I smile in amusement. She’s such a good Lieutenant.

Gajeel stands opposite Midnight, seething with anger (100). Midnight, however, is almost in a half-asleep trance, his head tilting to his left. He seems as calm as can be, just as well. He still loves his sleep- but not as much as spending his waking hours with Cobra.  
Once it starts, though, his eyes open, blearily, and when Gajeel sends an iron arm towards him he deflects it, letting it hit his opponent in the face and giving himself a bruise.  
The fight continues like this until Gajeel goes into Iron Shadow Dragon Mode, which just makes Midnight sigh. Moving just slightly, he uses Invisible Scythe and Spiral Pain in conjunction with each other, knowing that any Darkness magic he cast wouldn’t affect the Dragon Slayer in this form.  
A Distort Shield shimmers around him, and he reflects the earth around him, sending it showering around Gajeel, who is stalled for a moment, then busts through. At that time, though, the two spells hit him, causing him to cry out in pain, and collapse to his knees. Shaking, Gajeel stands, and looks up just in time to see a punch aimed directly for his face. Hitting it’s target, Midnight smiles slightly, and Dragon Slayer stays in place for a moment, then goes flying back, courtesy of the Distort Shield. Instead of anything else, Midnight conjures up another Spiral Pain, then another, and another, hitting Gajeel over and over, until his opponent’s body contorts with pain and agony is written all over his face.  
Midnight, his head tilted to his right, walks over to his opponent, crouching down and whispering in his ear, “You are as weak and pathetic as a person can be.”  
With that, he levitates a rock over, and slams it into Gajeel’s body, not stopping until he’s heard several satisfying cracks of bone.  
Finally, as the team from the other side is shocked into silence, Midnight ceases his attacks, and moves off, even putting the rocks back where they came from, leaving the arena floor as perfect as it was before.  
“Let that be a lesson to you. Do not test the strength of the Black Hand, or it’s people.” Midnight says to Gajeel, who can’t even moan in response.  
I smile, leaning back in my chair.  
Midnight has proven himself such a wonderful Brother.

“Cobra loses to Wendy Marvell!” Jason announces over the next battle. Hard to believe as it might be, I’m not disappointed, but rather, elated. By some contestants losing, it shows we aren’t all powerful in certain aspects, but, let’s not kid anyone. We’re still good at everything, more than enough to dominate.  
Next is Noctus vs. Jenny.

Noctus, in a purple dress with light blue accents, red stockings, black shoes, black necklace, and a red bow sitting atop her pigtails, walks out into the arena, smiling underneath her umbrella. On the other side appears Jenny, her blonde hair carefully tousled and her appearance as sleek as can be. Her face, however, speaks otherwise.  
The match begins, and Noctus puts up the darkness spell, discarding her umbrella and aiming her hands at Jenny, who is transforming into Machina Soul currently (101). The spell she’s powering up is a more advanced type of Soul Extinction, and, just as Jenny finishes transforming, Noctus’ spell is all powered up, allowing her to release it, with a maniacal smile on her face.  
Hit full force with the blast, Jenny screams in pain and hits the wall once it’s done, but before that, we see her form in the spell, and even now, the pain is still written on her face, and she’s twitching. Grudgingly, and groaning, she gets up, looking at Noctus, who’s not even panting, just smiling sweetly. Screaming a battle cry, Jenny charges Noctus, tackling her into the ground and releasing her with a little machine on her torso, which slashes through her clothing and begins cutting her flesh, making her bleed.  
Noctus, screaming in pain, struggles to pull it off her body, terrified at the sight (102). With a great tug, aided by shadows, she pulls it off, and her mangled outfit would already be enough to earn the model mage she’s facing be beaten to a bloody pulp, but the blood is going to make this gruesome.  
Shadows seize her opponent, slamming her into the ground and walls of the arena repeatedly, until the Machina Soul armor has broken and faded, and even after that. The people from Blue Pegasus, as well as the other teams, are crying out to try and stop her, saying she’s had enough, but I don’t think this is the time to intervene.  
Bickslow spares me a sideways glance, and then looks again at the spectacle before us. Noctus, stepping carefully over to her prey, traces a pattern on the almost bare body of Jenny, who whimpers and pulls away from the touch. My Sister laughs, and summons out of the shadows a quill, the tip not darkened with ink like it should be.  
I tilt my head, curious to see what she is doing. Smirking, Noctus puts the tip to Jenny’s stomach, drawing out symbols in her skin, the blood running down and wetting the ground beneath their feet. It’s not a lot, but it flows smoothly, coating Jenny’s skin and Noctus’ hands.  
After she’s decorated her whole stomach, Bickslow can’t stand it anymore, and yells out, “STOP!”  
The sound reverberates through the stadium, and everyone turns to look at us, as Bickslow’s standing up, although no one can really tell who he is, except, perhaps the Fairy Tail members.  
Noctus’ eyes flicker from him to me, and I nod, agreeing with his statement.  
She pouts, then shrugs and happily smiles, patting the cheek of Jenny and letting her magic go, the shadows receding and sending Jenny crashing to the floor.  
Noctus picks up her umbrella and calls up a shadow to take away the quill (103), exiting the arena. Jenny’s team comes rushing to her aid, and takes her immediately to the infirmary. I smile as Bickslow turns around to face me. He looks confused at that, but just sits back down. The next match, between Rogue and Nightshade, won’t be for a while. They have to clean up the blood. Unsanitary.  
Luckily, instead of me having to make conversation, Decimus enters the room, and motions for me to follow him. He’s smiling; a good sign.  
Wordlessly, I follow him, closing the door behind us, but don’t bother to place a rune on it.

Decimus leads me to the infirmary, and I enter behind him, with Porlyusica just glancing up and then going back to her work. I must get her something to sway her further to our side. Something to do with not interacting with people.  
In the bed closest to the door that we entered in, lies Kurohebi, hidden behind curtains, moving much more than he was last time.  
“Listener.” he begins, almost hissing in how quiet his voice is. (104)  
“Kurohebi, how are you feeling?” I ask, moving closer and standing at his bedside, looking at him concernedly.  
“Not bad, but I’ve seen better days. I want to accept your offer, if it’s still available.” the lanky man speaks, bandages still wrapped around his arms almost all the way up. I don’t even want to think of what else was damaged by Killian.  
I smile, and look at him. “Welcome to the Brotherhood, then, Kurohebi. You’ll do very well in our Family. I’ll assign you someone to teach you about our beliefs and what will be expected of you, as well as set up your contracts for you. Do we have any armor for him, Decimus?” I ask my Brother, who hands me a bundle of clothing wrapped in a black cloak.  
“If you have any modifications, just ask, but you are also welcome to wear whatever you like. Do, however, keep yourself clothed as much as possible.”  
Kurohebi looks at me with a surprised expression.  
I sigh. “There have been a few instances where several people have forgotten to leave at an appropriate time from a... heated night, so to speak, and have been chased out in their birthday suits. We may or may not have several small children in our Sanctuaries at any given time. It’s also considered courteous.”  
“Really?” Kurohebi asks, looking amused and alarmed at the same time.  
Decimus nods. “It’s quite a problem, actually.”  
Kurohebi chuckles, and accepts the bundle of clothes. I pull out a lacrima from my bag, handing it to him as well. “Contact me through this when you’re on your feet again, and I’ll tell you where to go and the passcode. The Black Door will ask you a question, so don’t be alarmed if you hear a voice when you’re near it. Any questions?”  
Kurohebi takes the offered object, and shakes his head.  
I smile, and nod. “I look forward to working with you in the Family, Kurohebi. Sithis guide you.”  
I step back from the bed, and Decimus closes the curtain around it. Turning to leave, I pause, hearing several things, like labored breathing and whimpering.  
Sighing, I turn back again, and walk towards Porlyusica. “Who else is in here, Porlyusica?”  
The pink haired woman looks at me in irritation, and then nods toward the beds, shielded by curtains like Kurohebi’s. Privacy is important here. Porlyusica can’t even stand the sight of her patients.  
I peek my head in, and see Jenny, trying to breath normally, sleeping. Looks like night terrors. The next one on the same side houses Minerva, whose whimpering, her eyes scrunched closed. Another, next to the one with no sound has the labored breathing sounds, and it’s Mirajane, covered in bandages and sleeping, albeit with rattling noises , probably created from her broken ribs.  
The last concealed one has no sound coming from it, and the body is covered by a sheet. Curious, I glance at Porlyusica, who hasn’t looked up, and I enter the little realm. I pull back the white sheet, and peer down at the still face of Erza Scarlet. She’s dead.  
A little swish of cloth makes me turn my head, and I see Porlyusica stepping in. “She was too far gone, thanks to your Sister, for me to save. I’m surprised that she was finally beaten. As far as I’ve heard, this is totally impossible, and yet, she was. How powerful are you?”  
She whispers the last part, and I pull the sheet back over Erza’s face. “This isn’t even the worst of what we can do. By spell, arrow, bullet, sword, or anything, we can kill any who approach us and any who oppose us. Erza, however, was an unfortunate accident. I thought her a worthy opponent. She will get an honorable burial, if nothing else.”  
Porlyusica sighs, then nods. “She tried to protect her friends.”  
“A noble, if futile, effort.”  
With that and a sigh, I leave, going back to my box a bit more somber than I should have. (105)  
But Erza Scarlet’s death will not make any of the Fairy Tail mages docile, in any sense of the word.  
This could be a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 93- Just slightly.  
> 94- As she should be. She's formidable, and has Sea Empress Armor, so any advantage we might have might be negated.  
> 95- He gets a kick out of stuff like that.  
> 96- And I mean, SO.  
> 97- This is making me nervous.  
> 98- Very, very clever. She's performing a miniaturized version of Abyss Break. In this case, if Erza dies, no one can blame us.  
> 99- Undoubtedly, it could have held up to the miniaturized Abyss Break as it held up against the Jupiter Cannon, but it was not locked together in a shield.  
> 100- Probably at the fact that Erza had just been humiliated and along those lines.  
> 101- No matter how powerful the magic might be, if it takes too long to power up or use, then you're a goner.  
> 102- Noctus has this fear of blood; not any blood, just hers. She freaks out. Terribly. One time she went on a rampage. It was messy, but, somehow they all had contracts on their heads.  
> 103- Now I know what it is. It's the Darkened Star Fang. It takes the shape of whatever the user wants. Originally, it was just a Star Tooth, but instead it was darkened using Shadow Magic, an offshoot of Darkness magic. After that, it splintered under the pressure, because Star Teeth are legendary for their ability to repel the dark and the shadows, even being used by the Ayleids to repel shades, a variety of undead. But the shards were kept and scattered all over Tamriel. Mostly heavily guarded.  
> 104- For a few seconds, I wonder why he's whispering, then I remember the outcome of several matches just today. I appreciate having no injuries.  
> 105- After all, I did gain a new Brother.


	10. Shadow Forms and Thunderstorms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tenth chapter. Tomorrow (6/20) is Luna's birthday- releasing a oneshot in honor of it.  
> Also, happy father's day.  
> This chapter's song is Take Me To Church by Hozier.

Nightshade stands ready, dressed in the same outfit as yesterday, examining her black nails, sharpened to a point. Rogue, on the other side, has his eyes narrowed and looks like he could rip the arms off of her.  
I wonder who will win?  
Considering what Nightshade did to Minerva, he’s got to be pretty pissed, as well as horrified. That’s always a fun combination. Nightshade, however, looks pretty cool, even though Rogue defeated Racer last round.  
That is his only accomplishment right now that matters.  
“Start!” Jason announces, and Rogue flies into action, the shadows of the arena pulling towards him and congregating around him and Nightshade, who yawns and whips around just as he reaches her, sending him flying backwards into the wall of the arena with a powerful kick to his stomach. She lands on her feet, steady as a cat, and her hands form into fists, magic glowing around them as her hair swirls around, already the pigtails are becoming undone with her magic. Tentacles flare up around Rogue, trapping him, until he calls up shadows near Nightshade, trapping her likewise.  
Smiling, Nightshade starts to manipulate her hands like pulling on puppet strings, and the tentacles around Rogue start to grow hard and rough, tearing through his clothes and scratching his skin, deep enough to draw blood. He opens his mouth to either scream or roar out a spell, but tentacle slaps over his mouth, clamping his jaw shut and shutting his mouth hard enough to make him groan in pain.  
With bruises starting to form on his body where the tentacles are restraining him, the light scratches on his arms are making him writhe in discomfort, and I spy a couple of people in the audience who look uncomfortable as all hell.  
My eyes move back to the battle, and I pointedly look at Nightshade, who finally meets my gaze (106), and refocuses back on Rogue, hitting a point in his back with a tentacle that makes him gasp (107) and pass out.  
Everyone in the crowd is shocked by the quick ending, especially since it isn’t nearly as brutal as what they saw last time against Minerva, or even against Erza with Morrigan, or Noctus with Mirajane.  
Huh, so we can surprise people. That’s good to know.  
Nightshade exits the field, and Rogue is attended by a dwindling number of concerned teammates.  
Another victory for us.

Vidaldus hits the floor of the arena with a distinguished grunt, Levy crushing him with both a Solid Script: Silent and Iron.  
I look at the girl, whose panting, but unharmed, and nod my head. She’s good.  
I’m a bit surprised, but still. That’s good work, right there. Although I doubt Vidaldus will be happy about this, being beaten by a girl who looks like she’s still a teenager.  
Oh well, his problem, not mine.

I send a small slip of paper, magically enchanted to flap like a little bird, to Jason, as I run down to the arena, pulling out the same crystal from yesterday, reciting the same incantation and, instead of Jackal appearing, it is the demon Ezel, all four arms accounted for.  
“What would you have me do so that I may return to Zeref?” the demon asks, and I point across the way to Obra.  
“Defeat that man, and I will release you.” I state, and the demon takes one glance at me, then looks back at his opponent. He grins, and cracks his knuckles.  
Okay then…  
I hurry up to the box, and look on as the little puppet that is Obra, somehow, manages to hit the mighty demon with a power, draining his magical power. I smile, and raise a goblet of blood, draining it with a single gulp. Looking back at the scene, Obra’s lying on the ground, for his power does nothing to negate any physical advantage they have. The tiny creature attempts to get up again, but Ezel slams him back down and slices it in half using his curse power.  
Oh, he killed him. What a shame. (108)  
Jason, unhappy with how quickly that match ended, announces with no enthusiasm beyond what is required, that Ezel has won.  
I release the hold I have on him, and wait for the stadium to clear for the day, walking slowly down to the field.  
There, the puppet that is Obra is trying to piece itself together. I pick it up, Bickslow following me, probably confused, and hear it’s weak cries to try and make me spare it.  
I bring up a flame spell in the hand holding it, igniting the stupid thing and burning the other on the ground where it lies. Scooping up the ashes in separate hands, I incinerate them further, using the same spell, until there is literally nothing left of the puppet’s ashes. With another spell, of lightning this time, I cleanse my hands of anything left over, and leave, leading Bickslow out of the arena.  
I really hate that stupid puppet. People with that kind of magic and outlook on life are a danger to my Family, and I cannot have that. Ever.

The next morning, Bickslow and I climb up to the private box like we’ve become accustomed to doing. Luckily, I don’t have to do anything besides watch today, if the people actually do well, then yes, it’ll be fine. And if no one goes overboard, I shouldn’t have to intervene anymore this games.  
A Magic Power Finder challenge is set up.  
The remaining contestants, Nightshade, Noctus, Morrigan, Midnight, Hibiki, Wendy, Sherria and Levy all gather here, ready to determine the order of their battles and their opponents.  
The duo of Sky Slayers move to the MPF, Wendy doing Sky Dragon Roar, and Sherria doing Sky God’s Bellow.  
Both score very highly, Wendy getting a 3100, and Sherria receiving a 3200 rating.  
Hibiki and Levy go after them, Levy generating a Solid Script: Blast to hit the MPF, giving her a rating of a respectable 2725. Hibiki takes a deep breath, and makes a few movements with his hands, before sending the spell on it’s way, crushing down on the MPF, getting a score of 3700, shocking everyone, especially since his last time with something like this resulted in a score of 94.  
Midnight steps up, after the muttering of the crowd dissipates, allowing him to concentrate, hitting the MPF with Dark Rondo, generating a good score of 3450.  
“Huh. Must have a cold.” Noctus comments, and then steps up to the plate. “Allow me.”  
Noctus approaches, squaring her shoulders and narrowing her eyes at the target, generating a dark spell called Soul Enclosure in one hand, hitting the MPF with a powerful force and getting a lovely 8900.  
Nightshade, cocky as ever, pushes her team mate back while Morrigan looks on, content to leave the bickering children to it.  
“This is how you do it.” Nightshade states, gathering up magic in her hands and releasing it at the construct, a tentacle explosion grants her a nice 4200.  
“Stand back, pipsqueaks. I’ve got this.” Morrigan states, as Noctus laughs in her cute outfit of the day and Nightshade looks defeated.  
Morrigan stands with Hugo on one shoulder, while the mage uses both hands to channel her power.  
“RAVEN BLAST!” She calls out, hitting the MPF and gaining a score of 9450.  
She dusts her hands, looking back at the others, standing there dumbfounded, and says, “See? That’s how it’s done.”  
Hibiki, Wendy, Sherria, and Levy all look miserable, with Wendy giving off a vibe somewhat close to doom.  
This is going to be fun.

“The contestants will be matched up according to how they ranked on the Magical Power Finder, the highest to the highest, and so on. But, to determine the order, we are going to have a beast slaying contest!” Jason announces, and I don’t even react. (109)  
“For the matches, they are matched up Midnight vs. Levy, Nightshade vs. Wendy, Noctus vs. Sherria, and last but not least in any way, Morrigan vs. Hibiki! The matches order will be decided in just a few minutes!”  
Morrigan groans in annoyance, and all contestants, still on the field, turn to look at the other side, where a huge corral is.  
“It’s similar to Pandemonium, but instead of one at a time, you all go! The person with the most monsters taken care of when the challenge is over, and we will be keeping track, will go first against their opponent, and so on and so forth. On your mark, get set, GO!”  
The gate to the corral open, and Noctus almost immediately shrieks in horror. Those things are horrible for messing up dresses, and she particularly likes this one. (110)  
She runs screaming as far away from them as she can, terrified that they’ll mess up her clothing.  
Midnight takes a more practical approach, reflecting two into each other, taking them both down. A hovering light pen construction keeps track of the beasts taken out by each competitor.  
Wendy, using Sky Dragon’s Roar, gets 7 at once, and Levy is more trying to keep them away from her, pushing them back and somehow getting some to her name.  
Morrigan sighs, using her magic to create tiny tornados, whirling them around the stadium and picking up beasts left and right. Hibiki, not to be outdone, uses his Gravity Magic (111) to squish enough of them to get him up there in the running. However, after that, he doesn’t use his magic, wisely choosing to conserve it in favor of using it against his opponent.  
Nightshade, on the other hand, seems determined to make up for that embarrassment in the MPF challenge. The tentacles spring up from the ground, taking up as many of the magical beasts as they could, branching off and stopping tornados from Morrigan and actually merging with each other, creating a support system. The sunlight on the field is becoming blocked, and the view for the stands is practically null already.  
“Nightshade is the undisputed winner!” Jason announces, trying to make her recede the tentacles. (112)  
“Overkill much?” Noctus mutters to Morrigan, who chuckles and all but Nightshade and Wendy move away. The beasts are cleared away and the corral dismantled in minutes, allowing the others to get to their teammates and look on.  
Wendy looks understandably worried, but sets a determined look on her face. She isn’t backing down.  
“Match begin!” Jason announces, and Nightshade grins.  
It’s time for a battle.

Wendy, five minutes in, has already activated Dragon Force, her still petite frame holding up against a barrage of assaults from Nightshade.  
“I’ve always wanted to defeat a Dragon Slayer.” Nightshade says, grinning sinisterly at her opponent, who quickly lashes out and uses a Secret Spell.  
It hits Nightshade, whose defense of tentacles is ripped apart, sending her into the wall of the arena, and the Sky Dragon Slayer sends a Sky Dragon’s Roar towards her opponent again.  
The dust stirs itself up, and a raw power outburst is felt by everyone with the slightest hint of magical power.  
Nightshade, once the dust clears, appears to have gone into Shadow, noticeable by the new outfit and dramatic increase in magical power and output.  
Shadow is similar to Dragon Force, and is a much talked about and rumored power up in the Family. I can grant it, with Sithis’ blessing of course, to certain people in the guild, those who’ve earned it, or perhaps heard Sithis’ voice whisper in their ear during a contract. Nexus, for example, is one of them, though he is not a Speaker or a Silencer.  
As well as giving a boost in magical power, the specific transformations are different for everyone, and Noctus has already triggered hers. It grants access to any magic that they have a rudimentary knowledge of, or magic and skills they have locked away, buried in subconscious thought or something along those lines.  
For example, Nightshade’s main magic is actually Moonlight magic, but, since it’s a new moon, she hasn’t been able to use it. Shadow will allow her to use it, the same way that it would allow Noctus to use dark magic in any light.  
Her hair is up in a complicated fashion, circles, tightly wound, on the back of her head. Her face, normally makeup free, now has red lipstick adorning an arrogant smirk and black eyeshadow dramatizing her glares. She has silver rings on her neck, silver bracers, a single silver adornment on her right upper arm circling her biceps and triceps, a dancer’s silver anklet extending to her foot on her right foot and enchanted silver metal accessorizing her outfit on her chest and encircling her waist. A simple black top and black shorts keep the rest of her outfit free from snags and possible singing. A white hot chain is in her hands, and the wicked grin on her face could scare off a bear. (113)  
Wendy’s done for.

The girl is barely moving, and Nightshade’s green eyes flash around as the crowd cheers her on, some for her outfit, some for her skill, but most for her power and the fear that if they don’t, they’ll face her wrath.  
“Up next is Morrigan vs. Hibiki! A nail biter!” Jason states, sass almost evident in his voice.  
I watch with interest as the Shadow force wears off, and Morrigan comes onto the field to help her off and take her place. Another thing catches my eye, though, and I turn my attention to Kurohebi, in his new outfit, being welcomed by his new Family, Orion giving him a gentle hug while the rest wait to greet him. Morrigan offers a wave, as she can’t exactly give him the same greeting right now.  
Thank Sithis Decimus told them, I completely forgot.  
The other side is taking notice, and have immediately gotten angry, some yelling “TRAITOR!” at Kurohebi.  
I narrow my eyes at them, and stand up, just as Noctus turns to them, yelling back, “ANYONE CAN CALL ANOTHER NAMES, BUT WHO CAN BLAME HIM WHEN YOU TREAT PEOPLE LIKE SCUM FOR MAKING A DECISION THAT THEY ARE DESTINED TO DO.”  
That shuts the others up, and reaching through the black link, as I call it, to the guards within my power, ordering them to supply more people, to guard the public should a fight break out. Obviously, I wouldn’t stop it, as we would win, but if someone dies, especially a civilian, it wouldn’t do good, probably tainting this forever and slanting a view on the government. (114)  
If a fight does break out, I would much prefer it tomorrow, with a lot of guards to protect any civilians, or the city cleared out and that being the battleground. Maybe underground would work.  
Who knows. I’m not included in the planning process.

Morrigan is up against Hibiki, and I’m not going to say this is easy, because no one should ever underestimate a person who has Gravity Magic at their disposal. Despite his apparent disadvantage against Morrigan, I don’t doubt that he could win. He’s extremely smart, as evidenced by his use of Archive magic.  
This is going to be interesting.

Morrigan and Hibiki square off, waiting for the go ahead. Jason calls out, “Go!”  
Immediately, Morrigan gathers some wind with her, hitting the Archive mage with it from all sides, only for him to not even be moved.  
Confused, Morrigan tries it again, and still nothing happens.  
By that, though, she’s figured it out.  
“Telekinesis. Smart.” she comments, and whirls her fingers around in a spiral motion, pulling air up around Hibiki, making him spiral through the air uncontrollably. Grinning, Morrigan flies close to him, slashing him with her longsword. He gasps, and with his intake of breath, he gives it back to the air in the form of words.  
“Your raven Hugo is actually your younger brother.”  
Morrigan’s eyes go wide, and she hits Hibiki again with her longsword, knocking him to the ground.  
“He was a dove before you put his soul in the bird.” Hibiki continues, getting up from the slash.  
I lean forward in my seat. I didn’t know that about Morrigan.  
What else did Hibiki uncover in her mind?  
“You can bind souls to living beings!” he calls out, his eyes shut in concentration.  
I raise my eyebrow. That I most certainly did not know. I just thought that Hugo was an exceptionally well trained pet. I lean back, looking at the battle with a critical eye. I’m fine with people keeping secrets from me, but that ability… besides being rare, it could explain her power of foresight, among other things. (115)  
Morrigan, enraged now, hurls a Storm Shred at him, and as many gusts of wind as she can.  
His telekinesis stops them, surprising everyone here (116), and Morrigan just grows angrier.  
Finally, she summons a giant tornado, sucking up the oxygen in the arena, blocking the area from view, long enough for Hibiki to lose any control he has over oxygen, and definitely longer than enough for him to pass out.  
I’m about to try and stop this when the tornado clears up, Morrigan setting herself down and glaring at the body of Hibiki. Hugo comes over with her cloak, and she accepts it, walking back confidently to the team’s quarters so she could rest, at least a little bit.  
“That was a climactic battle between Morrigan and Hibiki, wasn’t it folks? Morrigan is the winner!” Jason says, trying to get the crowd back. “Up next is Midnight vs. Levy!”

“Midnight is down! I repeat, Midnight is down!” Jason says, confused but still devoted to his job.  
“What the hell happened?” asks Bickslow, looking at the ground.  
“I think she used the word Mirror, and it used his Reflector magic against him. Is that what happened?” I say, trying to sort out what I saw.  
Bickslow starts giggling at that, and myself, I’m fighting a laugh as well.  
“That’s almost as stupid as Noctus falling down in the second challenge!” Bickslow says, his giggling growing to laughter.  
I try to hide a smile, not wanting to hurt Midnight’s feelings.  
Vidaldus, however, has no qualms against this, pointing at the unconscious Reflection mage, and laughing. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen!”  
Cobra takes offense to this, and tackles the hair mage to the ground, demanding that he take it back.  
I start laughing at their antics, and both Bickslow and I can’t stop, becoming hysterical at the sight of the two mages wrestling on the ground like children.  
“There seems to be a… disturbance in the stands among the Dark Brotherhood contestants… Can I ask them to settle down… please….” Jason seems to stop trying, just preferring to collapse in tears.  
“We should do something about that.” I say to Bickslow when I have the breath.  
“Nah. Oh, look, Vidaldus is trying to pry Cobra off with his hair.”  
“There should be something wrong with that sentence.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 106- Although I can't tell, the visor's in the way. I figured because she did this.  
> 107- You can hear it, even though he's being muffled by a tentacle still.  
> 108- Sarcasm, in case you didn't notice.  
> 109- I did think that there is only one challenge per day, but I suppose this is better than letting someone just decide the order. The audience wants to be surprised.  
> 110- It's a corset top, black ribbon lacing it up the front, and a black skirt with red rimming the bottom. Black ribbon straps on her sandals wrap them around her ankles, and her umbrella is a nice purple and red. Her hair's still in it's pigtails, by the way.  
> 111- That no one knew he had, or even knew.  
> 112- Next with the most caught is Morrigan, then Midnight, then Noctus. Mostly it was Morrigan and Nightshade.  
> 113- If it was a smart bear.  
> 114- That's why this Games is so important. As well as establishing ourselves as the dominant power here in Fiore as both the government and, basically what the mages will view as a private army, we need to prove to the public, where the popular opinion lies, that we are both powerful and merciful, bold and brash while being courageous, kind hearted and open to public relations. It's not easy, especially since I came up with this plan while partially crazy.  
> 115- Other things being the fact that most people who can do that are not going to go far in life without being accused of murdering people whenever a homicide is declared. I can see why she hid that fact, but, really, we're a Family of murderers, did she really think that that would have any effect on how we think of her?  
> 116- Telekinesis is not often a main form of magic, and definitely someone as skilled as Hibiki apparently is, is a rarity. I mean, not even having to think about it, just reacting, is both incredibly useful and rare. Hmm.


	11. Light Musings and Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Irresistible by Fall Out Boy.

Finally, Vidaldus and Cobra notice how hard we are laughing at them, settling down grudgingly with occasional pushes and shoves, mostly from Cobra.  
Jason clears his throat, reclaiming the attention of the audience. “The last battle of the day is Sherria Blendy vs. Noctus! This is sure to be intense.”

Jason, yet again, is left with tears streaming out of his eyes, although, this time it’s over how cool Noctus is. When he said that, she just winked at him cutely, making him faint, getting him into the position he’s in now.  
Oh, yeah, what happened was that Noctus beat Sherria in one move, hitting her with her special attack, Veiled Orb, trapping Sherria in a darkness so black it can actually make a person go mad if they’re in there too long.  
Luckily, Sherria was released before long, as it takes an immense amount of power to hold that spell, and without being in Shadow mode, Noctus cannot project it for long, especially considering she used some magic on the MPF before that was pretty high on the scale.

“The victors are Morrigan, Nightshade, Noctus and Levy!” Jason announces, finally regaining his composure. Messing with him again, though, is Noctus, who blows him a kiss.  
She likes to be playful as well as cute, and succeeds in making the announcer faint again.  
I shake my head, but I’m too amused to reprimand her.  
It’s almost the end of the Grand Magic Games, anyway.

On the walk back, I pause, and instead lead Bickslow and myself to the infirmary. I want to know what Porlyusica thinks of Kurohebi’s injuries, and see if anything else requires my attention.  
Once there, though, Porlyusica is standing by the door, frowning only slightly at a pair of people, one in a bed and the other sitting in a chair close to it, just talking.  
I glance at Porlyusica, then back at the couple. The hair is unmistakably Hibiki’s, but who’s with him?  
Ah, Morrigan.  
Hmm.  
This could prove interesting.  
I make no sound, simply standing there and listening to their conversation. Apparently, Morrigan just got there.  
“So you are alive. I thought I killed you for a while there.” Morrigan states, Hibiki looking up at her.  
“Why would you worry about someone you wanted to kill?” he replies, fiddling with a sheet of paper.  
“I never wanted to kill you, actually.”  
“That means so much coming from an assassin.” he states, looking at the paper and starting to bend and fold it.  
Morrigan huffs. “Says the guy who read my mind. Doesn’t that break some intellectual privacy law?”  
“Not if it’s in a battle.”  
“...Ugh. How did you find all that out? I thought telepathy was limited to conscious thoughts and the like.” Morrigan asks, curious as to find someone like this.  
“I’m extremely gifted at telepathy and telekinesis thanks to my Archive magic.” he responds, continuing to fold the paper into some sort of shape.  
“What else do you have on me? If it’s too bad, I might have to kill you anyways.” Morrigan leans back, looking at him but with the slightest trace of a smile on her face. She’s enjoying this.  
“That’s actually about it. If you want, I can tell you about myself as a payment.”  
“Eh, why not? Knowledge never killed anyone, only people.”  
Hibiki laughs. “Okay, so what do you want to know?”  
He’s finished with the paper, and it’s folded in the shape of a crane. Interesting.  
“Uh, okay. Where are you from originally? Did you grow up in Blue Pegasus?”  
I smile, backing out of the infirmary and closing the door silently behind us. Learning about Killian’s power level output with that spell can wait until morning; they have a lot to talk about.

The walk back to the palace is much less crowded than the day before, and instead of having a tense and awkward dinner in the dining hall, I lead us to a nice little cafe, taking a seat outside and looking at the sky, the setting sun sending the clouds into a lovely array of colors and making them look like a palace of technicolor.  
A waiter comes up after about 5 minutes, explaining that they’re swamped, but I wave it off. “Come back when you’re not going to be yelled at by the other patrons. We’re fine waiting.”  
He smiles radiantly, leaving the menus with us and bustling off to get ordered food to tables with wailing infants and crying children; impatient adults, of course, bothering him every which way.  
Bickslow seems surprised at my gentleness, and looks at me with an eyebrow raised. It’s kind of odd, considering how he wears a visor, but it works for him.  
“You seem to be in a good mood.” he comments, picking up the menu and perusing it.  
I do the same to mine. “If I am in a bad mood, I wouldn’t take it out on an innocent person just trying to do their job. A person should be judged not on how they treat their equals, but the people under them.”  
“That sounds archaic.” he comments, peering up at me.  
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it? It still stands true, though, so I doubt it matters. Do you think we should get an appetizer?”  
“The wait does seem pretty long on food.”  
“Well, then, let’s.”

A few hours later, the place is virtually cleaned out, the lone waiter cleaning tables, and I finally stand, leaving a hefty tip and placing some more jewels in the shared bowl.  
“So, Listener, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” Bickslow starts, and I look at him while waiting for him to exit the nice restaurant. (117)  
“What is it, Bickslow?” I question, wanting to listen to his concerns. Isn’t that what Mates do?  
“I was thinking… Laxus wouldn’t be averse to joining the Brotherhood. He could probably be very good at it, in all actuality. If he could, just to protect his family, he wouldn’t fail you.”  
I say nothing, walking calmly while he hurries to keep up.  
“While that last statement is true, he is far too recognizable, too flashy, and his magic is not nearly as suitable as many other candidates. Also, if he fights for his family, what does he really want? Most likely to kill me, in one stroke, if possible, to prevent me from hurting his family. While if I had snagged him before, then yes, I would, by all means, try to do that. However, the Dark Brotherhood would never be his priority and would never have his full allegiance.”  
“You won’t give him a position in the Brotherhood?”  
I stop, looking my Mate straight in the eye. “If I thought it a good investment of both time and resources, enough that it would be repaid later on, I would include him. However, his ethics and morals, as well as Dragon devotion to his Family and Mate would always be a problem for him.”  
“So you won’t ever accept him into the Brotherhood?”  
“It is not logical nor is it wise.”  
Bickslow draws back from me, moving forward, almost running to get to the palace.  
I breath out a sigh, sad that such a wonderful evening had to be ruined by that conversation. Why are things so complicated with such matters that should be as easy to tell as breathing?  
Then again, why was my Mate not as corrupted as I am when I met him? (118)  
I turn to look at the outline of the palace in the dim light, then sigh and shake my head. Using transformation magic, I change my outfit and put my hands in a fur muff, deciding to take a long stroll around the city. Maybe I’ll visit the guilds.

Instead of visiting the guilds, I take a walk in the gardens, trying to clear my head of these annoying notions. Once there, I simply stroll along, seeing the people of the city enjoying the nighttime.  
I hear an excited shriek, and look over, seeing Noctus fling herself into the arms of a guy, who I recognize as Lucifer. His red forearms encircle her waist, picking her up and twirling her around, making her laugh. As he sets her down, her arms link behind his head and the ebony skinned man laughs as she pouts when she can’t quite reach his lips to kiss.  
I leave the two thinking even more, and wishing wistfully to have something akin to that.

I arrive at the palace after about two hours walking around, at 1 in the morning, and moving towards my quarters.  
I’m interrupted, however, by guards under my control.  
“My Empress, there was a disturbance several hours ago.”  
I raise an eyebrow, and sigh. “What kind of disturbance?”  
“A lightning mage seemed determined to find you, and he looked rather threatening. Currently he is waiting with your Mate in the throne room, and there are guards at every exit. Shall we escort you there?”  
I sigh again. “Very well.”  
Once there, I transform into a more suitable outfit before entering the room. Dark Brotherhood robes allow me to hide my hands and the shadow of the hood hides my face except for my red eyes, glowing in the dim light.  
“Listener, leader of the Black Hand.” announces a guard, and all stand at attention. (119)  
Laxus turns, looking at me.  
“I’ve been waiting for over two hours.”  
“I did not know you would be so impatient; otherwise I would have made you wait even longer.” I reply, glaring steadily at him.  
He grumbles, then Bickslow intervenes.  
“Laxus wishes to make a plea to you.”  
“A plea? How original. Do you have any idea of how many people have tried to bargain for their life with me?”  
“How many survived?” the Lightning Dragon Slayer asks, slightly nervous.  
“None.” I speak, not moving and waiting for Laxus to speak. (120)  
“Well then.” Bickslow states, uncomfortable.  
“Speak, Laxus, or get out of my sight.” I dismissively say, wanting this to be over already.  
“I wish to join your Family.” he says in a huff.  
“Hmm…. you are an exceptionally talented wizard, as well as quite powerful and with capabilities that could definitely work in my favor…. No.”  
“What do you mean, no?” Laxus asks, shocked (121) at my answer.  
“I mean no. As in, not going to happen. As in, never. As in, not. A. Chance.” I state, and the Dragon Slayer growls at me.  
“Do I get a reason why?”  
“I don’t have to justify myself to you. Now get out of my palace.” I demand, walking out a door and to my chambers directly. I’m tired of this kind of thing happening everywhere I go. It’s time to truly prove that the Black Hand will reign eternal.

The next day seems especially tense during the walk to the stadium. I still have no idea what’s happening, although most bets are on an all out brawl between everyone. Well, between my team and the others. Only the most injured won’t take part.  
Morrigan, Nightshade, and Noctus are already there, along with Lucifer, who Noctus can’t seem to get enough of, Nexus, calmly conversing with Erigor, probably about the benefits of man skirts, which would seem to be many, and Kurohebi, who's talking with Nightshade and Morrigan, probably about the Family. Everyone is standing in the arena, while the other team is congregating on the opposite side. (122)  
Kessie poofs in with Ortelloth, the latter being clutched quite possessively. Cobra and Orion walk in, nodding to me and joining the group, though continuing their conversation. Racer rushes in with Midnight, who is still half asleep. He walks over to Cobra and places his head on his shoulder, resuming his sleep there. Rustyrose appears with Vidaldus, and the party is complete.  
Orion and Kurohebi are the only ones over here with much in the way of injuries, both still bandaged heavily, but insisted upon competing.

On the other side are some heavily bandaged people, including Lucy, Mirajane, Jenny, Minerva, Kagura, Natsu, and Eve. The rest of the people are there too, although it’s a grim posse, as the news of Erza’s death at the hands of Morrigan appears to have spread fast. It appears, though, that there are more of them than when the games began.  
Gildarts Clive has appeared, as well as his daughter, Cana Alberona, with Lisanna Strauss tagging along. Dobengal is there, throwing dirty looks over at Kurohebi. I thought about recruiting him, and I might still, but not right now. The last people to arrive are Jellal, Meredy and Hoteye.  
I bend the railing when I see them. I’ve been trying to track them down for months, and they just appear here like nothing’s happened.  
“Listener, what is the plan?” Morrigan asks me.  
I stop glaring at that damned trio for a moment, turning my attention to my Sister. “Beat them all. I don’t care how hard, or how many are injured, or even killed. Just do it. Focus attacks from the strongest of you on Jura, Laxus, Gildarts and Jellal. Hoteye shouldn’t be ignored either, and someone needs to take out Meredy as fast as possible. After those threats are taken care of, knock off the Slayers and the most powerful ones, Jenny, Minerva, Mirajane, the like. Understand?”  
Morrigan nods, and smiles. “This is going to be fun.”  
“Sithis guide you, Sister.” I state, and walk away, up to the box. People are starting to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 117- I'm very impressed with it, actually. I think I'll endorse them.  
> 118- I fear the gods are messing with either me or my destiny and, one day, I'll get them for it. The last born of Akatosh does not mess around. Hey, maybe it's the Kelen.  
> 119- There are at least 20 guards in here. Laxus makes everyone nervous with his power level.  
> 120-In all actuality, that's not true. I've spared the life of gifted people, who were willing to join the Black Hand. Of course, if that happens, I send another soul to Sithis in place of theirs, at least temporarily. Being an assassin is dangerous.  
> 121- Pardon the pun.  
> 122- I'm not happy with how a certain dark haired Dragon Slayer is staring at Nightshade. At all.


	12. A Puppet and Devotion Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is starting to heat up, and it's not even halfway. Please comment, I get bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Heathens by 21 Pilots.

“The last day of the Grand Magic Games, folks! I hope you’re as excited about this as I am! The contestants are Morrigan, Midnight, Nightshade, Noctus, Lucifer, Vidaldus, Erigor, Cobra, Ortelloth, Kessie, Orion, Racer, Rustyrose, Nexus, and Kurohebi! On the opposing side we have Levy, Gajeel, Lucy, Laxus, Mirajane, Lisanna, Gildarts, Cana, Natsu, Wendy, Jura, Lyon, Sherria, Eve, Jenny, Bacchus, Rocker, Kagura, Millianna, Arana, Rogue, Sting, Minerva, Dobengal, and Flare! Wow, that’s a lot of names. In addition to those, also joining the side against the Black Hand is Jellal, Meredy, and Hoteye! Give it up for these reformed criminals!” Jason announces to the roaring crowd.  
“Last days of the grand magic games are always the most fun, and you know why! It’s a battle royale! This year, it will take place underground! Contestants, get ready! Get set!”  
The arena’s floor opens up, and the entirety of the two teams fall through, Kessie laughing, Morrigan and Erigor neutral, Noctus saying whee all the way down with Lucifer smiling at her, Vidaldus yelling, and some just not even noticing.  
At the bottom, there are still grunts of pain as the lacrima vision kicks in, giving us a look at everyone there.  
“GO!” Jason’s voice resonates over the microphone, and the contestants either run to find better ground or just start preparing spells. The lacrima vision spins around, giving us a full 360 view of the place, and there’s rubble everywhere. Looks like it’s from construction.  
Kessie immediately leaps into action, teleporting this way and that until the only ones left behind are her and Ortelloth, who she smiles at widely and jumps with again, right behind the other team.  
From there, Ortelloth uses magic to send most of the team flying with her Eruption magic, some of them cursing. However, out of 28, she only got about 10, so there are still plenty to take out and I doubt they’ll be down for long.  
Noctus and Lucifer stand on a pile of rubble, and she fires a Dark Rondo at the remaining people.  
Lucifer, for his part, won’t let his girlfriend hog all the glory, sending fireballs at them, one of which Natsu swallows and licks his lips afterwards.  
Rogue, being the Dragon Slayer that he is, sucks in the Dark Rondo, making Noctus look at Lucifer, and immediately the two grin and switch partners, Noctus using a Shadow Claw to drag Natsu to a separate location. Lucifer launches fireball after fireball at the Shadow Dragon Slayer, who avoids most of them but gets hit twice.  
Nexus, appearing next to his Brother with a smirk, starts singing softly, “She’s in love with the devil, she’s in love with Lucifer. This is her revenge for all the years of hate and tears.”  
“Stop standing there and do something, Nexus!” Ortelloth says, now in a close battle with Hoteye. Both of them are melting the earth down and trying to use it against the other. Once or twice Kessie’s deemed it too close and saved her love from the ‘evil man.’  
“Fine, fine, calm down. Surgere a dormitabit, ministro ego tantum. Perdere mea hostibus, vos sunt meus nunc et aeternum, donec ego solvo vos.”  
The spell has an immediate effect, waking the dead around the place and rising up, breaking through the loose topsoil and moving up, until dead bodies of the fallen are completely exposed. As soon as they arrive, they converge on a person not from the Brotherhood, earning shrieks of terror from most of them and cause more than a couple of panic attacks.  
Those that are destroyed stay down, and Nexus cannot summon any more until they all fall. (123)  
A square hit to Kessie sends her spiralling, and as Ortelloth rushes to her, her eyes swell up in tears. (124)  
Her girlfriend whips around, activating her Shadow Force, which I always find surprising, for some reason, even though I’ve seen her do it like ten times.  
From her throat rips a scream, and magic swirls around Ortelloth, the very earth around her feet commanding her obeys and covering her, solidifying and staying still for a moment. That moment passes, and out Ortelloth steps, instead of in her usual outfit of robes covering her entire form, in her Shadow Force form.  
Her hair is kept out of her eyes with a simple knot on the back of her head, falling down, but with two strands in front of her ears, the rest kept behind by her ear ornaments, golden attachments in the shape of elves ears. A choker collar of red adorns her neck, and gloves of bright gold extend from upper arms to her fingers, with her right wrist holding a red and blue bracelet with spikes. Her top connects to a circle in the middle of her chest, then breaks off, going to her back in two directions. Red cloth covers her chest while gold, yet again, appears, circling her midsection, three buckles holding it secure while exposing a teeny bit of Ortelloth’s former guildmark, an ice blue something around her belly button. A brown belt keeps her skirt up, a small pouch with gold accentuating it, the same gold on the line at the bottom of the skirt. A small golden button keeps it secure, and her skirt is a red that looks absolutely lovely on her skin tone. Her shoes attach to her feet via thin straps of black, while the platform bottoms are gold. On the belt, right next to the pouch, is a tiny piece of candy along with a bracelet, courtesy of Kessie.  
Out of the pouch, with Hoteye simply standing there, stunned, Ortelloth draws two things, and I smile with fondness, thinking of how I found Ortelloth.  
Two puppets are in her hands, a woman in a dress in her right, while a jester hangs comically from it’s strings, in Ortelloth’s skilled fingers.  
Bickslow leans over to me. “Why does she have puppets?”  
“Ortelloth used to use puppets to channel her magic. If I’m not mistaken, the jester one can make anyone laugh, and the lady makes them captivated. Those are her oldest puppets, and she can work them quite well. It’s actually how she and Kessie got together; she’s the only one who can resist the lure.” I finish, and continue looking at the lacrima vision.  
“Seriously?”  
“She gets very protective of Kessie.” I say. “She doesn’t like being alone, and Kessie is very gifted at sensing Ortelloth’s emotions.”  
“Huh.” Bickslow states, very articulate today.  
“They’re an unusual couple.” I remark, smiling. “But they’re very sweet together.”  
Case in point, Ortelloth starts to make the puppets dance. The Lady claps her hands, almost seeming to giggle like she’s alive. The Jester starts to dance, and Kessie, seeing what’s happening, teleports around to the team, snapping in front of their faces, knocking them out of the allure of Ortelloth’s magic. A cut she received from the fling back is bleeding, and she wipes it away from her forehead with a hurried hand as she continues her task, not bothering with the undead under Nexus’ control, as they won’t be affected as long as he isn’t.  
Ortelloth continues to play with the puppets, Hoteye starting to be affected. He laughs, clapping his hands at the sight of the magical puppets. Ortelloth smiles, turning her little man around and around, making Hoteye rumble the earth with laughter, shaking the ground. I watch as Ortelloth’s eyes start to gleam, the purple orbs coming alive and dancing, following the movements of her puppet. Lady, now able to move because of Ortelloth’s magic stands, wobbling a bit on her doll legs, walks to her shoulder, sitting once more on Ortelloth’s shoulder, continuing to clap at Jester’s antics and capturing the attention of the opposing team, especially Jura and Hoteye, both of them falling into the hypnotic dance of the Jester.  
Slowly, the two start to crumple in on themselves while everyone watches something else, for example, Nexus, focusing on the ruins, probably thinking about how to sketch them later on. (125)  
The puppet dances faster and faster, Ortelloth using both hands now, and the other two earth magic users start to keel over, their legs trembling from the pressure of their laughter. (126)  
The two keep laughing, tears streaming out of their eyes and they begin to be panicked, as they can’t stop laughing long enough to breath correctly, their laughter making it impossible to do anything besides fall down and hope to breath. Even not seeing the puppet, they can’t stop laughing, and Kessie, back at Ortelloth’s back, taps her shoulder, Lady whipping around and stopping her clapping, allowing the two on their backs stop laughing, though they’re down for the count.  
Ortelloth blinks, stopping Jester from dancing, and turns to Kessie, who smiles at her and hugs her, holding her girlfriend as the Shadow Force shimmers out of existence. The puppets fade out, and Ortelloth slumps into her girlfriend’s arms, unconscious from all the power she’s used. She’s not running on empty, but this happens every time with her, and almost always with the Shadow Force unless you’ve got an already enormous amount of magic at your disposal, like Morrigan, Noctus, or Nightshade. (127)  
Kessie tends to Ortelloth, flicking a wrist and creating a bubble around them, giving them both privacy and security. I’ve tried to break one of those shields of hers before, it took me at least five minutes with constant spells of extremely high caliber.  
Jason, startling himself out of his spellbound state, says to the audience, “It appears that Jura and Hoteye are both down, along with Ortelloth! Is Kessie going to participate after this, though? With her teleportation powers, this could spell the end of the Black Hand’s dominance in the magical field!”  
I glare at Jason, taking my eyes off the lacrima vision for a quick while, making him sweat when he looks up at me. “Then again, maybe it could mean that the playing field will just get more interesting!”  
I reluctantly focus back on the game, determined to support them even if they can’t feel my gaze or the support.  
I do, however, doubt that Kessie will leave Ortelloth’s side until she recovers, which could be a while. Kessie will have no trouble maintaining the shield over both her and Ortelloth, especially since she won’t be bothering anyone else and the people left will be distracted by the ones attacking them.  
Noctus and Lucifer, teaming up, fire a unison raid at the two Dragon Slayers they’re fighting, Natsu and Rogue. They scramble to get out of the way, of course, but the spell chases them, growing more massive as there isn’t enough light there to kill the shadows. Finally, it catches them, cocooning the two of them in a mix of fire and shadow, making the shadows too hot for Rogue to swallow and the shadows too dense for Natsu to eat as well. The two writhe in agony as the substance covers their faces, blocking out any screams they might have.  
Eventually, the two pause their movements, and the magic recedes a bit, allowing them to breath. We don’t need to kill anyone here (128) but we do need to prove that we are better in our ruthlessness and our mercy than others.  
Look, they’re alive. That’s very generous for assassins.  
Dobengal, however, hits Lucifer in the back with a magic dagger, knocking him down and making Noctus gasp. He seems to realize he’s not made the best move, but keeps fighting (129). The mage from Saber Tooth shoots off two more daggers in Noctus’ direction, one tearing her outfit and another missing, though not by much. Noctus pieces together a Dark Seeker, sending it after Dobengal, letting it do its job as she helps Lucifer up. The Seeker chirps, letting Noctus know it found it’s target. Smiling, Lucifer lights up his fist with fire and shoots the spell at the ninja.  
Dobengal’s pained shrieks echo throughout the cavern. (130)  
Just to be sure, Lucifer sets the area around where Dobengal is on fire, slowly closing in and watching the terrified and very, very warm ninja run away smoking. He runs straight into a Darkness spell set up by Noctus, his shouts muffling themselves against the spell and slowly stopping.  
As this happens, though, Sting hits Noctus in the back with a light spell, sending her flying in the direction of Dobengal, hitting the ground with an unceremonious thud.  
Lucifer turns just in time to see an iron pillar from an arm hit him in the face, making him spiral and fall off the pile of rubble the two of them were standing on.  
Gajeel and Sting stand there now, Gajeel with Iron skin and shadows dancing around his feet, Sting with white scales on his face and down his body, randomly placed, it seems.  
They’ve entered Dragon Force.  
I wonder if they’ll be a match for Lucifer and Noctus?  
This will be interesting.

Lucifer and Noctus take a look at their opponents, once they’re standing, and then look at each other, nodding once.  
Together they go into Shadow Force, and the transformation takes about a second, but allows the two Dragon Slayers to power up their own spells.  
Lucifer appears in a swirl of red, his hair now styled in a mohawk with red highlights instead of green, his hands and feet claws or talons, a gas mask around his neck. Stitches in his lower torso are apparent, with a set of red bracers on his forearms. Spines stick out of his skin at his elbows and knees, tinged red and black. Black shorts and a sleeveless shortened black turtleneck top cover him just barely. His face still has a smile on it, delighting in his opponent’s confusion and soon to be terror.  
Sting and Gajeel release their spells and Noctus and Lucifer switch positions, taking the spells they could withstand much better than the other.  
Smiling almost insanely, Noctus grins at the two up on the pile of rubble, who start to realize this is not their brightest idea ever.  
Noctus and Lucifer fly at the two of them, using basic spells to send the rubble falling underneath their opponents’ feet. Gajeel dissolves in shadow while Sting launches himself at the attacking pair.  
He hits Noctus, sending the both of them into the ground but hurting Noctus more than him. Unfortunately, he forgot that Noctus, in this form, can use Death Magic with almost minimal effort.  
And I can’t stop her from this position. (131)  
Her hand finds his neck, latching on and choking him, preventing him from using any of his voice based attacks on Noctus, which, at such close range, would not be good.  
Lucifer searches for Gajeel, who hasn’t materialized from the shadow. As the Iron Shadow Dragon Slayer remains missing, Noctus slowly proceeds to drain Sting’s magic.  
Surprisingly, he has more than Mirajane, who is renowned for both her magic power and her pin up ability (132). Noctus can’t move though, while this is happening.  
Gajeel reappears, tugging Sting out of Noctus’ grasp and breaking the drain.  
Sting gasps for air, and simply breathes for a while, before Lucifer hits Gajeel with a Spinning Kick of White Hot Pain (133) and Noctus grabs at Sting again, this time hitting him into the pile of rubble they stood upon at the beginning of the battle. Noctus slams him back into the rubble again and again, before releasing a vice like grip on his arms and instead grabbing his head with both hands and slamming it into the rubble pile, over and over, until his eyes roll back in his head and Noctus’ hand drifts from his head to his neck, feeling his pulse and beginning to draw on it. (134)  
Gajeel hits Noctus with an Iron pillar before she can get too far, although she’s already siphoned off a fair amount of his magic. Sting exits Dragon Force, lying on the pile of rubble, almost smoking.  
Returning his focus to the fight with Lucifer, he sends an Iron pillar at him as well, only to have it melt in the face of Lucifer’s fire magic, so white hot that it can set buildings on fire with a single touch. He can melt stone with it, even, and iron? Not a problem.  
With a huge outlet of flames, Lucifer smiles brightly, his eyes gleaming evilly and setting themselves on fire as well, his hands channeling his power directly towards Gajeel. The air crackles with the sounds of the fire, and after a few moments Lucifer lets up his assault, watching with satisfaction as the Iron Dragon Slayer powers out of Dragon Force, his outfit on fire, desperately trying to pat it out. Burns cover his arms, but he admirably throws himself at Lucifer, hitting him with a Shadow attack unexpectedly, the shadows holding him down while Gajeel uses Iron Shadow Dragon Slayer’s Roar, actually causing the rubble nearby him to fall and land on the fire magic user.  
Noctus, screaming at the sight of her “honeybunch” being buried by rubble, charges Gajeel, hitting with a Death Magic Strike.  
Anyone else would be either severely injured or dead, but Dragon Slayers are extremely resilient. Gajeel takes the blow, clawing at the ground to gain a grip, probably causing great pain to himself with the burns covering him now. Noctus, not even caring that she might cause some sort of terrible consequence, goes after him, tackling him to the ground again, the two wrestling and Noctus slashes at him, her armor elongating to cover her fingertips, claws appearing and trailing dark energy, probably death magic, but who knows at this point.  
Gajeel wisely tries to get away, activating his Iron skin in the process, but the claws penetrate it, making him gasp in pain as Noctus strikes him again and again, everywhere, even as his iron skin recedes and Gajeel goes unconscious, his energy significantly drained because of the death magic. (135)  
Noctus doesn’t even halt until Lucifer places a hand on her shoulder, back in his normal form, and she relaxes, smiling and her own Shadow form shimmering away.  
“You’re lucky he’s not dead, otherwise you’d be suffering eternally.” she spits at Gajeel, standing up and walking away, arm in arm with Lucifer. He ruffles her hair, and the two go to search for other opponents, although Noctus is being supported by Lucifer, having used a lot of her magic and her pretty much down for the count in a fight.  
What else is going to happen here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 123- The downside to necromancy.  
> 124- I'm never sure if she's serious or not, but it does this to Ortelloth, no matter what.  
> 125- He's a very talented artist, and as soon as I told him about Argonians, he started drawing them. The sketches became better once he found out more about them and their culture, due to some books and pointers I gave him.  
> 126- They have really weird laughs.  
> 127- Using a secondary magic as a main one because of several reasons can also unleash the restrained magic, like Noctus' and Ortelloth, although it takes something to bring them out of it, like a swift kick or a tap on the shoulder. They lose control of themselves for a while at the benefit of gaining more power to defeat practically anyone they wish.  
> 128- Although it's already happened, rather accidentally.  
> 129- Admirable.  
> 130- I didn't know someone could scream so high.  
> 131- Do I want to, though? No. Need to? We shall see.  
> 132- Is that a real thing?  
> 133- This is a real attack he uses, I swear.  
> 134- In her Shadow form, anything that moves is considered a target, and she has this habit of even taking foxes life forces. I like foxes.  
> 135- Now we know.


	13. From Perfect to Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Eosin Waste by Flutter Rex.

Nexus stands tall on a ruin, his skeletons at his control with but a thought. Lyon takes one look at him and sends an Ice Make: Bird in his direction, the Ice mage reasonably sure that he can take someone like that, in plain sight.  
A Skeleton Archer knocks back an arrow, sending it flying towards the bird and shattering it before it got anywhere near Nexus.  
Lyon is taken aback, looking at the skeletons before him. “There’s- there’s a necromancer here?!”  
Nexus smiles, turning to his opponent, sending the skeletons after him and continuing to smile at the Ice Make Wizard. “Not what you expected?”  
“Exactly what I expected, actually.” Lyon replies, creating a Tiger and watching it bat at the skeletons calmly, growling. Another Archer lets an arrow fly, hitting the tiger in the heart, as the others strike at it as they can.  
This Archer, however, seems smarter than the others, another arrow flying directly at Lyon instead of his creatures.  
Lyon’s spell is interrupted, him trying to make a bird to attack Nexus yet again. The arrow sticks through his hand, and from it comes a black ooze, his limb turning black slowly as the poison spreads. Cursing, the Ice Make Mage rips it out of his hand, and glares at the necromancer. Determined to do something about it, he tries to make another spell, only to cry out in agony.  
“The fun part of Necromancy is that it’s Death magic, meaning that anything that one of my Skeletons touch, other than me, of course, is poisoned. Including any weapons they might have.” A dark chuckle escapes his lips, and he jumps down from his perch, approaching his opponent.  
“I won’t kill you, though. Be glad of this fact.”  
Lyon’s tiger is finally overwhelmed, and eagerly the remaining skeletons close in, only halting when Nexus holds up a hand. The ice wizard is sweating profusely, the curse spreading to his torso now. Finally, Nexus’ enemy is down, and he heals him with a touch.  
“He has done me no wrong. What’s up with you, Morrigan?” Nexus says, aware of his Sister’s presence, close.   
“I’m trying to find someone worthy to fight, but I can’t seem to.” she remarks distastefully.  
“What about a Dragon Slayer?”  
“Not nearly challenging enough.”  
“Hmm…. How about Gildarts?” Nexus suggests, standing upright from his crouch, where he healed Lyon.  
“That’s a wonderful idea, Nexus. Thank you, Brother.” Morrigan says, smiling and flying away on a gust of wind.  
Nexus smiles and returns to his post, happy to help. “Now to see if anyone here can really put up a fight.”

Morrigan searches the ruins for Gildarts, looking for a challenge. On her way she spies Erigor fighting Dobengal, Vidaldus battling Lisanna, Eve obscuring Orion’s vision and aim using White Out.  
Cana throws cards at Racer, who avoids them easily, weaving through them and getting closer to Cana with every step. Her defenses aren’t going to hold up very well under a barrage of assaults from him.  
Continuing on her search, Morrigan looks into the future, not seeing anything yet.  
Frustrated, she sighs, and then straightens, getting an idea. Spiralling downwards, she hits Cana dead on, saying to Racer to search for Gildarts while she hurt Cana.  
Racer speeds off to search, and Morrigan looks at her prey, picking her up by her hair and dragging her towards a structure, half buried in rubble and ruin.  
Still holding Cana by her hair, like she did with Erza, Morrigan slams the girl into the pillars, watching bruises form and smiling, knowing that someone hurting his darling girl is going to attract Gildarts’ attention.  
Racer zooms back in, and Morrigan throws Cana at his feet, as he says, “He’s coming.”  
“Excellent. I want a challenge.” Morrigan states, moving forward to look for the magical behemoth of a mage.  
Gildarts’ magic makes his entrance for him, the ground literally shaking around the Crash magic user. His burly frame and glare appear before almost anything else, and Morrigan grins at the brown haired man. “Did you miss your little daughter?”  
Gildarts’ eyes flicker to Cana, who is up, bruised, but still fighting, though Racer’s shredding her cards before they can do anything, to him or otherwise.  
Cana cries out in pain as Racer lands a strike on her, pushing her back with his enhanced speed. Hmm.  
If he hits her any harder, she might actually start losing skin and muscle. Accelerating from a distance of 10 to 15 feet, rapidly, would increase the force behind the strike, allowing for cloth, armor, leather, hair, skin, magical shields, to be shredded, broken, shattered, you name it, depending on the strength of the protection in question and the distance he travels.  
It’s a fun equation to work with, considering that he could kill a person just by running at them fast enough. It’s a favorite way of his to execute people.  
He could do the same thing to Cana here, there’s more than enough room, especially if it is on a flat surface like this. (136)  
Gildarts looks at Morrigan again, rage etched into his features, and as she smirks he sends a wave of Disassembly Magic at her. Flying up in a gust of wind, she avoids it, and it passes by, not harming any. Tilting her head to her right, Morrigan smiles cockily. “Is that all you got, old man?”  
Gildarts, still angry, probably more so than is wise, takes a flying leap at Morrigan, who knocks him back with a windburst. He tears through it, rather unsuccessfully, using Crushing Evil, Spreading the Truth: Empyrean. He still hits Morrigan with his fist, imbued with Crash magic, but it doesn’t send her flying back nearly as far.  
Morrigan recovers, wind supporting her easily as Gildarts hits the ground, creating a crater with his magic leaking out of his power. (137)  
“What’s the matter, Gildarts? You can’t control yourself?” Morrigan mocks, looking at the man. Again, he leaps up, but Morrigan goes to meet his blow, pulling back her own fist and surrounding it with wind magic, accelerating herself at the same time to get more force behind it.  
Determined looks echo on each of their faces, and when the two’s fists meet, Morrigan smiles at the shockwave created, flicking her other hand at Gildarts and sending him flying into the ground.  
Everything starts rumbling, and Gildarts gets up again, his magic forming a white aura around him.  
Morrigan actually looks worried here. I’m thinking this is going to be painful.  
Gildarts starts gathering up his Crash magic in a huge sphere, and Morrigan prepares Emera Baram, the hand motions automatic. She releases it, just as Gildarts lets his own spell go, the two of them contacting and creating a shockwave, sending Morrigan backwards and everything in the lacrima vision disappears for a while in a vision of white.  
A rumbling can be felt, and I realize that the enclosure beneath the arena where they’re battling has fallen apart, the contestants subject to natural sunlight again.  
Noctus immediately conjures up an umbrella, shading herself and Lucifer, who smiles fondly at her and boops her nose. (138)(139)

Morrigan stands up shakily on the opposite side of the arena, presumably where she landed, if the hole shaped like her is anything to go by.  
She glances around, seeing a slightly battered Gildarts walk towards her. Twisting her head down and to the side slightly, she peers into the future, and shakes her head after a few moments. She can’t see the end of the battle yet.  
He continues walking towards her, and finally, Morrigan makes a decision.  
She goes Shadow, and the transformation is so dark, it looks like a raven’s wing met the night. Slowly, it moves up from her feet to her head.  
Her feet, the first thing revealed, are encased in high heels that seem to meld into her flesh, stopping after her knees, feathers sticking up and making her look like a raven just with that. Continuing upwards, however, her alabaster white skin is revealed for a short while, before black again covers it, the top of her thighs erupting in feathers again, black as night, continuing up her torso and stopping under her collarbone, her chest completely covered. Her arms almost seem to elongate, her hands gaining talons, feathers still adorning her body in random places, the joints most notable. Her head, though, is the most striking, a crown of raven feathers circling her eyes and keeping her hair back from her face, as well as feathers covering her eyebrows and nose. The final adjustment is confirmed when she opens her eyes, the previously white sclera now completely black, shining in the sunlight, with red all around them, radiating out of her eyes.  
This is going to be interesting.

Gildarts’ Crash magic is powerful enough to make the ceiling of the arena fall down, but that does not help him here. With access to the winds, Morrigan can do almost anything in Shadow Form with the wind moving her as she wills it, but a thought guiding her way.  
Unfortunately, like most of the Family, in Shadow Form she is difficult to control, and I can see how this might be a problem. (140)  
Morrigan starts to spiral around, going faster and faster, generating enough wind speed and air pressure to cut through literally anything.  
Gildarts, seeing her coming at him, sets up a Shield, thinking that the wind won’t do any damage to it. Sending a tiny (141) piece of wind at it, Morrigan’s power shatters it, leaving Gildarts shocked and the rest of the combatants looking on, even those in the opposite guilds. Morrigan slows down just slightly, enough so that her grin is evident to all. With a small gust of wind, she rises above the spell in an instant and it hits Gildarts, the full brunt of the spell dampened just a bit. Taking up spells in both hands, she summons both a classic scythe and her longsword, rushing at where Gildarts is, wind giving her extra speed.  
Gildarts, surprised by the attack, barely dodges any of the swipes, but nonetheless, dodges them until Morrigan’s expression changed and she sends an Air Strike at Cana, who screams in pain, reminding everyone that this is a battle, and shouldn’t pause for one fight.  
Distracted by his daughter’s cry, he gets hit by a single strike and immediately grasps his chest, where it landed, in pain. This allows Morrigan to land more, sending him to his knees in pain, gasping for air.  
Bickslow, beside me, stands and goes to the window.  
“What are you doing?” I ask him, standing as well.  
“She’s going to kill him.” he responds, turning to look at me. “Stop her.”  
“I trust Morrigan; she won’t kill him.”  
“She will!” Bickslow insists, swirling back to the window and punching it, cracking the glass.  
“She won’t.” I state, but Bickslow ignores me, pulling his arm back for another hit.  
I lay my hand on his arm, trying to get him to calm down. “She will not.”  
He brushes me off with a shake and breaks the glass, his dolls appearing and carrying him out above the middle of the battlefield, where Morrigan is fighting Gildarts, who is making a stand right now.  
I groan, rolling my eyes, but my wings come out. I am glad that I didn’t restrain them, as odd as they appear.. Flying out of the box, I swiftly catch up to Bickslow, trying to talk to him still.  
He readies a Baryon Formation, and I sigh, knowing that this won’t be good.  
Instead of letting it hit Morrigan, I get in between the spell and it’s target, taking the brunt of the attack. People are starting to notice this.  
“What’s happening?” I hear Jason mutter, probably accidentally, into his microphone.  
“I can’t let you interfere with this.” I say, once the spell has worn off fully, my body smoking slightly.  
“She’s going to kill him!” he says, using a different magic, Gravity, to try and make me stop.  
I negate the effects with a touch to Libra’s key, and fly up to level air with him.  
“I trust her.” I speak, looking at him evenly.  
“I don’t.”  
I sigh again, and push my hands together at the wrists, palms flat and exposed to the world, fingers curled in. I turn my hands diagonally, and summon up thoughts of lightning, calling out a strike from the skies, which darken almost immediately and Bickslow’s hit with a lightning bolt, then another, and another.  
He’s not down, yet, though, and hits me with a lightning atronach. Hmm. I didn’t teach him that.  
I grimace, and punch through it’s form, dispelling it as it shocks me. Oh yeah, he’s probably trained with Laxus.  
This isn’t going to be easy or fun.  
Yay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 136- They're not supposed to be killing the others, but I have no qualms against it. Depending on how high on the scale they were in importance, it would differ on how angry I'd need to appear, or not. Of course, if they kill Hoteye, Jellal, or Meredy, I'd throw them a party.  
> 137- Crash is immensely powerful, and takes a long time to even adjust to using. Using spells with it, though, is difficult when you're under emotional stress, unless you can control your emotions with a flick of a switch.  
> 138- Shouldn't they be focusing on the game?  
> 139- I actually can't be angry at them for this, they're too cute.  
> 140- The people might see her as the more powerful threat; if she successfully takes down Gildarts, that is. I do have faith in her, but this might prove dangerous.  
> 141- Comparatively.


	14. Fighting with Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Magic by Mystery Skulls.

Unfortunately, it’s at that moment in time when Erza’s magic decides to release itself, and a shockwave makes everyone, wizard or not, stumble, before the magic of Erza boosts her comrades, though the ones already defeated are still down for the count.  
Bickslow, hovering in front of me, calls out swords (142). With a greatsword in his hands, and several dozen floating with telekinesis, he flies at me, sword raised high and gleaming in the sunlight.  
Hurriedly, I conjure a battleaxe, its ethereal visage making people wonder at my power and its origins. I put it in a defensive block, the two blades clashing and creating magical sparks. He smiles as we’re locked together, and I curse myself as I remember the swords.  
I’m impaled from every angle possible, most swords going through one area and out another, although some are deflected by my armor. Gritting my teeth, I push up, getting him to move backwards, and I layer my skin with magical armor, casting a cloak spell of fire as well.  
He seems to hiss at this, and I grin, knowing that fire isn’t fun for any vampires. (143)  
This isn’t going to be a good battle or a nice victory, either. I’d mention defeat, but I have no choice in the matter. If I don’t win this battle, it’s going to give the impression that I am not able to protect my Family and that I am not a serious person, or threat.  
I have no choice; I must win this battle, no matter how much it might hurt me, or him. I… regret this course of action, but it is necessary.  
Using telekinesis, I pull out the swords all at once, rather than one by one, gasping at the pain and closing my eyes at it. It’s still a bother and a pain no matter how many times I do that.  
Casting a healing spell, I seal the wounds and glare at my Mate, who looks either shocked or worried. I can’t tell at this point and I don’t care. (144)  
The entire stadium has stopped looking at the actual competition and at our battle now. I’ll show mercy later. This is a battle, not to the death, but defeat of the other. I cannot fail.  
Using Binding Magic, I latch onto him, pulling him closer and spinning him in a circle, until he breaks it, flying at me instead with his greatsword raised in a strike position. (145)  
The backlash stuns me for a moment, and I barely have time to raise my ax to block the blow. He pushes down on the weapon, trying to drive me away, demonstrating weakness.  
I leave one hand on the handle, holding the block in place and push him away, not entirely wanting to punch him in the face. (146)  
He moves back, and I disperse the battleaxe, pulling out, with magic, a Dragonbone greatsword, waiting for Bickslow to rush me again. I glare at him, unhappy with this turn of events and adverse to the outcome, but I must.  
He charges me again, the two swords clashing and I let my wings go slack for a little while, dropping down, making Bickslow move forward to compensate and I use my legs to flip him over my head, sending him flying. He recovers before he hits anything, and I growl.  
This time, I charge him, slashing and clashing our blades so rapidly that the world around us starts to blur, the people below captivated. I change weapons, sheathing the greatsword and pulling out two smaller swords, more agile and easier to lodge in someone’s body at this speed than a burly sword. With two swipes at him instead of one, it’s easier, and I do cut him several times. The cloak spell and armor spell have worn off, and it’s made it easier on him to hit me, not suffering from the heat of the fire or the magical armor shielding me.  
Bickslow finally stabs me in my stomach, plunging the blade in. He smiles, thinking he’s won. Stony faced, keeping the pain at bay just barely, I slide up the blade, moving it through my entire midsection until I reach the hilt. He’s horrified by this, and I take the opportunity to stab him twice with my swords, each. His hands now each have a nasty gash, his chest bleeding and his right arm hurt.  
It’ll take just a tad for the poison to take effect. In that time, I smile at him, closing my eyes like an innocent girl, and he’s confused.  
Until the poison takes effect, that is. His last expression is one of shock, before a smile. He expected this.  
He turns backwards, his dolls still hovering, but without him in a state to control them or keep his balance.  
With the conjured greatsword still in me, I dive, my wings folding to catch him faster. Just a few feet from the tallest ruin, I catch him, and my wings work hard to get both of us into the air again. With him in my arms, smiling faintly, but unconscious, I fly back to the box, aware that most people are still watching, and I pull the sword out of me with telekinesis, walking out of the box and then hurrying to the infirmary. It’s a common enough poison, but he should have rest afterwards.  
It’s time to get back to the game.

By the time I get Bickslow to the infirmary and Porlyusica is checking him out, I’ve missed quite a bit. I didn’t want to jostle him unnecessarily, to prevent blood loss, and as such I had to walk at a normal pace.  
She looks at his injury, procuring the antidote while giving me a glance that tells me she wants to know exactly what the hell happened. I return her look with one stating I’ll tell her later.  
I walk out as soon as soon as she’s treated his injuries, any unnatural pallor going out as easily as anything. The audience outside has since turned back to the game, though some more curious individuals turned to the inner walkways to watch as I carried Bickslow to the infirmary. It was silent, though, only the slight sound of breathing evident that they were there and alive. (147)  
I walk up to the stands, as I can hardly stay in the box with all that broken glass. I should make it something else next time. Every eye near the Dark Brotherhood’s section gravitates towards me, and I calmly move up the steps, the stands empty except for Decimus and Fukuro, who seem relieved that I’m okay. They both nod their heads at me, before returning their attention to the games. They have to support our team.  
Behind them still, I walk, up to the top of the stands, and pull out enough spells to carve a proper throne together from the stone here. (148)  
I take my seat, leaning back and observing the battle from here. Thank Sithis for vampire’s improved sight.  
So far, Eve has fallen thanks to Orion’s expert marksmanship, although Eve also got Racer with an unexpected Blizzard, Morrigan, in Shadow form, has taken down both Gildarts and Dobengal, who somehow wandered into that situation. Lisanna took out Erigor, it seems, but then got tagged out by Orion and Vidaldus’ combined effort. (149)  
Flare’s engaging Nexus’ skeletons, cursing herself with her every effort. Really, I wished her to win. She has so much potential. Orion takes the last shot at her, but she lashes out at him with her hair, taking him down by transferring her curse to him too, from the skeleton’s touch. Nexus hurries to heal them both, not prioritizing between them besides the fact that Flare’s more injured (150). Cana’s still battling, though her opponent’s changed from Racer to Vidaldus, who finally lands a blow on her with his Succubus spell, turning her into his slave.  
“Aw, man! It would’ve been fun to pit her against her old man!” Vidaldus laughs, before leading her away to find another person to fight.  
Cana laughs along and praises Vidaldus like a blind fan girl. (151) “You know it, baby!”  
“There’s still some game left in everyone standing, folks! Mirajane, Laxus and Lucy are still kicking their opponents out of the game! Jellal and Meredy are wandering around as well. And you can’t forget such heavy hitters as Kagura, Minerva, Sherria, Jenny and Wendy!” Jason announces, excited over the battles.  
“On the other side, though, against the mages of Fairy Tail, Lamia Scale, Blue Pegasus, Mermaid Heel, Quatro Cerberus, Sabre Tooth and the independent guild Crime Sorciere are powerhouses like Morrigan, Nightshade, Cobra, Midnight, Rustyrose, with newcomers Lucifer and Nexus! It’s looking like Noctus and Ortelloth are out, at least for the moment. Onwards with the games!”  
Morrigan, still in Shadow form, rides the wind calmly, searching for her next opponent. Nightshade, pulling a tentacle out of the ground and reaching Morrigan’s height, talks to her about finding someone to fight. Listening, the Shadowed Morrigan looks around, trying to find two players.  
She points with a claw towards one end of the stadium, and pulls Nightshade close to her, the tentacle crumbling into nothingness. Morrigan flies the both of them over to their targets, and Nightshade steps onto a ruin, Morrigan dropping just low enough to not injure Nightshade if she missed. The two nearest them were Meredy and Jellal. They look up at the two of them, and Meredy activates a Sensory Link, looking at Nightshade and Morrigan determinedly.  
Morrigan smiles, and her eyes pulsed red. Meredy, unused to Sithis’ will, screams and falls to the ground. (152)  
Jellal, concerned for his teammate, moves forward in an effort to protect her, only to be tackled by Nightshade, knocking him back a bit. He steadies himself as Nightshade gets up, grinning at her small victory.  
“Meteor!” he calls out, his body glowing and he speeds towards Nightshade, his magic a bright yellow.  
Nightshade, not quite quick enough, gets hit several times before she slams the ground with her fist, the ground affected by her spell erupting in tentacles and catching Jellal, after he slices through five while continually slowing down.  
Using his magic, he vibrates and breaks through them, dissolving most of them in his light display.  
Nightshade covers her eyes at the display, and glares at him. I can tell what she’s thinking, that he’s beneath her to even do something like that. How dare he hurt her and challenge her magic, when she is clearly superior.  
She transforms into Shadow force, her outfit instead of a black, now with a silvery sheen adorning it and making it catch the light. It’s a moonlight collecting outfit. She’s….. no…..  
She can’t. Can she?l

Huh. Turns out she can. Nightshade, using her Shadow Form, raised the moon to form an eclipse. Although it is a recent new moon, she raises it full, and everyone stops what they’re doing to look at her.  
She’s practically exploding with power now. Her moon magic is now completely at it’s fullest, and Jellal backs off, trying to get himself ready for the inevitable attack. With a single raised arm, Nightshade sends a Moonbeam at him, with the Heavenly Body mage using Meteor to try and avoid it.  
This is pointless, as it follows its target until it hits them.  
He yowls in pain at the sensation of the white hot magic searing his flesh, burning through his clothes and touching skin.  
Meredy is fighting against Morrigan, whose smile doesn’t disappear, pouring her magic into creating a tornado around Meredy, lifting her off the ground and sending her swirling into various objects, including Jellal, at one point.  
Nightshade, grinning, creates creatures of moonlight, forming avatars to combat Jellal. His punches and kicks do little damage, but as soon as one of them lays a finger on him, he yelps in pain, the essence of pure moonlight burning him.  
“You are not as pure as the moon, and not as pure as I am.” Nightshade says, her eyes glowing white, the irises disappearing. “Nothing is as pure as moonlight.”  
Her whole being starts to shine, and I look on, my eyebrows raised slightly. This is impressive.  
Morrigan, seeing what Nightshade is doing, hops next to her, clasping her hand in hers. Together, they raise their hands upwards, speaking in unison, “Lunam corvas summa spiritus! Lunaris penna clarigatio.”  
The resulting blast left the after effect of the initial blast of moonlight as light feathers, hurting anything they touched. Luckily the area of effect is limited to about 50 feet, so no one outside the arena was affected.  
Jellal and Meredy both are lying on the ground, twitching, probably blinded, at least temporarily, and are down. Every time a feather lands on them, they twitch some more from the magical and physical pain.  
“I don’t believe it! Jellal and Meredy are down by the power of Nightshade and Morrigan!” Jason announces, actually dumbfounded.  
Both of my Sisters power down, back in their normal form now. The moon goes back down, the temporary eclipse over. (153) “Who to fight next?” Nightshade says, while Morrigan laughs. “That was easy.” she states, looking at the unconscious bodies of their opponents.  
“Who will that powerhouse duo take down next?” Jason announces. “And who will win the MVP award for the Grand Magic Games this year?”  
As they stand together, two beams hit them, one golden, the other a yellow.  
“Lucy and Laxus, the powerhouse couple, are challenging the delightful duo!” Jason comments, looking on. “Ah, this is so cool!”  
Laxus’ lightning cracks across the sky, a storm rumbling in while Lucy stands, already in a Star Dress, although I can’t quite tell from here which one.  
The two prepare to fight, while Morrigan and Nightshade stand up again.  
“Come back for more?” Morrigan taunts, and Laxus sends a bolt of lightning her way, which she dodges with a gust of wind.  
Nightshade uses her tentacle magic, a massive tentacle emerging from the ground behind Laxus and stabbing him from behind his torso, raising him up.  
I suck in a breath, seeing myself in that position, only with Miraak there instead of Laxus. A few tears slip by me, as I’m reminded that I’m horrible, forever, alone in my destiny.  
Forever.  
I shake my memories off, the sorrow and regret receding. The focus on the battlefield is Lucy now, whose face turns to a terrible rage. This isn’t going to end well. I pull up a thought projection, sending it to an official. “If Laxus does not resume fighting in thirty seconds, bring him to me and I will heal him at the cost of his outing of the game.”  
After I issue the order, the thought projection dissolves, and the officials there look at each other, scared, but nodding, one checking the time.  
I doubt he’ll get up, but I don’t want anyone dead yet.  
Arriving at the scene is Vidaldus and Cana, ready to fight Lucy as well, before she uses Regulus and hits both of them in the stomach, sending them flying and knocking both out in one move. Her rage is fueling her magic, interesting. As she sends a Regulus Arrow, courtesy of both Leo and Sagittarius, towards her opponents, Morrigan tries to divert it with wind, but cannot, because of the Regulus enchantment. It strikes her, and a legion of them rain down on the two of them, Morrigan and Nightshade. Nightshade conjures up tentacles to defend her, and silently, the medics remove Laxus, who still hasn’t risen. He’s bleeding out, as I suspected.  
Hopefully I can save him.

Lucy’s panting, her rage fueled rampage dwindling out, with Morrigan out and Nightshade’s defensive capabilities tested. (154)  
The Celestial Mage is so exhausted, taking down Cana, Vidaldus and Morrigan, she just drops to the ground, Nightshade a little stunned at this. (155)  
“No… fight?” she says, confused, then shrugs. “Whatever.”

Jenny fights with all her being against Nexus’ skeletons, before being overwhelmed and watching them practically cover her. He moves them off her, healing her and keeping her down with a punch. Her previous injuries impeded her movements, and it wasn’t the most fair of fights, but it’s a gain for the Black Hand.  
“There are only 7 people left on the Black Hand’s team, and 9 on the opposing sides against them! It’s still anyone’s game!”  
I finish healing Laxus’ wound, and send him over to the Fairy Tail side of things, no note, no message, nothing. I like being kind.  
Kurohebi makes his move as I return to my seat, striking out Bacchus with a mirrored Palm Magic, just like the Quatro Cerberus mage’s magic. Surprised, because he thought that Kurohebi would use Sand Magic on him, Bacchus is taken out in a single hit, his body hitting a ruin and destabilizing it, collapsing on top of him. His head pokes through and he groans, unconscious.  
Rustyrose, confident in himself, traps Sherria in a shell of darkness, not letting up, and she ran out of air eventually. He let her go, her unconscious body appearing out of the imagined magical space. Cobra takes on Wendy, wanting to get revenge for earlier when she handed him defeat.  
I feel slightly bad for Wendy, but she can heal herself, so it’s no biggie. The young mage’s body hits a ruin, and it collapses over onto Midnight, which makes Cobra run over immediately, digging through the pile to find his friend. (156)  
Arana and Millianna are up against Rustyrose and Lucifer, who easily defeat the others with Lucifer keeping their attacks at bay by burning them and Rustyrose hitting them with enough Imagination magic to give them bruises to last a year.  
The two high five afterwards, as Cobra embraces Midnight close to his chest when he finds him, concerned that he hasn’t responded. (157)  
Nexus, however, finds Mirajane. “Hello, hello, Mirajane Strauss. What brings you here?”  
“Your inevitable defeat.” she replies, and goes into her Satan Soul Sitri form, not even skipping a beat at the skeletons’ appearance. I think she expected something like this.  
Nexus sniggers, and sets his skeletons on her while she transforms. His man skirt is replaced by a short one, with more freedom of movement, with knee guards and sandals on his legs, bandages covering his calves and about half of his feet. His upper arms have gold jewellery circling them, and a little choker collar with a skull on it in around his neck. His gauntlets are on his lower arms, and his silver piercing in his left ear gleams in the light. A piece of armor around his midsection is present, silvery gray, like the rest of his armor.  
“Let’s roll, Mirajane Strauss.” He laughs, and powers up his magic, summoning an undead dragon, along with some more minor beasts.  
His eyes beam with power, and his grim smile is haunting.  
This should be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 142- An after effect of a wizard's magic release. usually results in mages with no related magic use the deceased's style.  
> 143- That's why I hate the pink haired brat so much, the Fire Dragon Slayer. Besides being annoying, he's a fire wizard. Ugh.  
> 144- I should, of course, give him a token of the possibility of his surrender, but I'm too angry. He just stabbed me with ten swords. I'm not quite in the best of moods.  
> 145- Why did I teach him combat skills? Why?  
> 146- It's gorgeous, that's why.  
> 147- As that happened, though, every other blink was red, and bodies littered the floor, the only two living beings in my vision Bickslow and I. Thankfully, they were faceless, unimportant to my schemes, and I could continue without stumbling. I've seen worse things.  
> 148- Did you think a stadium was constructed with wood when there's fire magic? Hah. As if.  
> 149- Orion loves shooting birds.  
> 150- Triage is something he performs without a thought. Noble.  
> 151- If Gildarts could actually do things other than drooling, he'd probably go kill Vidaldus, maybe actually, maybe not. But he's not, so it doesn't matter. Unless Vidaldus refuses to release her.  
> 152- Sithis blesses us with Shadow Forms, and using Meredy's magic against her, Morrigan sent it to her, allowing her to feel it when she rightly shouldn't. It burns the first time, and several times after. As she is used to it, Nightshade didn't react besides a tiny blip of pain. It's different for everyone, some hear Sithis' voice, laughter, previous Brothers and Sisters, etc, as well, as the forms and transformations being different, as Sithis uses us in different ways, allowing for more variance and more power in that vein. The pain is a byproduct of letting a portion of Sithis' power inside you.  
> 153- Was it just here, or did that actually occur? Nightshade, bringing out the moon in the middle of the day...  
> 154- This is interesting. Laxus, I do not wish to have in my organization. Lucy, however, I could find a place for.  
> 155- I'm not. They were no base prey, and I am now seriously considering asking her to join us.  
> 156- Just his friend, he keeps insisting.  
> 157- He's fine. Just asleep.


	15. Last Fight and First Slights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Lone Digger by Caravan Palace.

Nexus’ dragon falls to Mirajane, and he sighs. “I didn’t think that could happen. Oh well.” He raises it again, and another one comes together under his magic, smaller beasts guarding him, as well as his original skeletons, or what remains of them.  
“It’s so nice out today. I’m glad we’re outside.” he states, his beasts attacking Mirajane with accuracy and in defiance of her attacks. When she hits them, their bones just knit back together.  
They crush her, finally, and she’s ground into the dust to make sure she can’t get up again.  
“There. Now, attack the other enemies.” Nexus directs of his two dragons.  
Kagura drops down from a ruin’s top, charging towards Nexus’ back. He’s alerted just barely by his skeletons, and tries to move back, only to get punched in the face and knocked backwards, skidding. His dragons pause, and dissolve as his Shadow form fades. He gets back up, though, and grins. “Thank you! I was getting hot in my armor!”  
Kagura narrows her eyes and charges towards him again, ignoring the skeletons, or using gravity magic on them to make them collapse in on themselves. Nexus has enough time to stand up and equip a secondary magic, sending a wave of fire magic out in defense.  
Kagura jumps over it and slashes him with her sword, drawing it in mid air.  
He looks at the cut. “Good job.”  
Kagura takes advantage of this and slashes again and again at him, some hitting, some not, Nexus dodging them.  
“You’re a worthy opponent.” he chuckles, and moves back and forth, trying to avoid the strikes. His fire magic has long been forgotten, and the skeletons can’t do anything for fear of hitting Nexus.  
He trips on a rock and falls on his back, where Kagura seizes the moment and holds the sword to his neck.  
“I forfeit. You’re honorable.” he states, looking at his opponent merrily.  
Kagura relaxes a bit, and the skeletons decompose, their bones literally delving back into the earth at astonishing speeds.  
The mage of Mermaid Heel is subsequently hit by Rustyrose, who uses the Tower of Dingir to capture her and keeps her sword away from her. Cobra, nodding at Rustyrose, flies up and punches her in the face, knocking her out. The Tower fades out and Kagura falls to the ground graceless and unconscious.  
“Only Rocker, Minerva, and Levy are left up against the members of the remaining Black Hand, Cobra, Rustyrose, Nightshade, Lucifer, and Kurohebi. Will the members of the Black Hand continue to dominate? Who will be the next to fall?” Jason commentates. “The anticipation is growing, folks. It’s a nail biter for sure!”

Kurohebi finds Rocker, and uses his guild mate’s Palm Magic against him, sending him into a pile of rubble with little effort. As soon as his head pokes up, he hits him in the head with his palms, amplified by the magic. This combination attack knocks out Rocker easily.  
“Rocker and his Drill ‘n Rock magic are out of the games!”

Levy and Minerva, sticking together, look around for any of their enemies. Our remaining fighters start appearing, not attacking, but just standing there and smirking, sure they can take the two of them. (158)  
One by one, they appear, Cobra leaning casually against a pillar, Rustyrose standing with his hands in his pockets, Kurohebi sitting on a ruined gateway with his legs hanging off it. Lucifer stands, determined, gas mask in place, with his fists smoking a bit already. He faces Levy, while the others are all around them.  
The last one to arrive is Nightshade, facing her prey, Minerva, on top of a ruined pillar. She grins, and snaps her teeth shut with a click. “For the Brotherhood.”  
“For Sithis.” says Rustyrose, magic appearing around him.  
“For our Brethren.” states Lucifer, thinking of Noctus.  
“For the Night Mother.” Cobra talks, eyes focused.  
“For Listener.” Kurohebi responds, standing.  
All of them jump to the battle, Minerva and Levy desperately trying to defend themselves. Kurohebi manages to separate them with a Sand Wall, and Nightshade manages to kick Minerva in the mouth as she turns to try and stop it, only ending with her in pain and on the ground.  
“Don’t take your eyes off the target, Minerva. Or is being the strongest not important to you now?” taunts Nightshade, Rustyrose helping her by creating a machine gun and firing it at Minerva, who is trying to get up. She holds out her hand, teleporting some of the bullets back at Rustyrose. He laughs it off, procuring a shield around him.  
Minerva hits the sand wall, and Rustyrose’s gun runs out of bullets, allowing Nightshade to kick her through the wall and hitting Levy with Minerva’s body. This allows for a large scale attack every member of the Black Hand remaining powering up a spell that illuminates the entire stadium, making everyone shield their eyes.  
A resounding ‘BOOM’ makes everyone look, as soon as the shock wave washes over everyone.  
Looking at the carnage, you can see the pair twitching on the ground. Sand and Palm magic residue filter through the air, and tentacles, still moving, are all around the crater that used to be flat ground. Imagination magic keeps changing, Rustyrose thinking about it and laughing at the unconscious mages. Lucifer’s fire has scorch marks as evidence and the smell of roasted flesh, and poison makes the duo in the center of the crater green.  
“The Dark Brotherhood has defeated all the mages of Fairy Tail, Raven Tail, Quatro Cerberus, Mermaid Heel, Lamia Scale, Sabre Tooth, Crime Sorcerie, and Blue Pegasus! How about that.” Jason mutters the last part, leaning back in his chair and whistling, long and low.  
Medics attend to those in the crater, and the last 5 standing walk off the field, congratulating each other and laughing. People on standby move onto the field, taking everyone, injured or not to the infirmary, to be attended by Porlyusica and regular healers.  
I stand, as Decimus and Fukuro crow about it. I want to congratulate my team. There will be an induction ceremony for Kurohebi, as well. When, though, I don’t know. He’s certainly earned it, though.  
As well as that, I wish to speak to several people there. Flare Corona and Dobengal, I feel could make a good life in my organization. Lucy should be congratulated for defeating Morrigan, obviously.  
I walk calmly down to the infirmary, only to be halted every few feet by reporters. “Listener! How are you feeling about your team winning against every other guild participating?”  
I turn my head to respond, and state, “I’m pleased with their performance. They’ve done exceptionally well, every one of them.”  
“How do you feel about Morrigan being beat by Lucy?”  
“Lucy is a very strong individual, evidenced by her use of Star Dress, and mixing her Spirits’ abilities. If anyone could take down a member of my team, it would be her.”  
“Even though Morrigan beat her originally?”  
“Yes. She made a wonderful opponent, obviously.”  
I move through the sea of reporters, and find myself stalled even more.  
“What was that fight about during the final battle, just now?”  
“I have no desire to comment on that particular event.” I reply, and the reporters seem to ignore this.  
“What happened with that?” “Who was that?” “Why would you act like that?”  
“I believe I just said I wouldn’t comment on that. The next person who asks me a question relating to that incident won’t talk again.” I state, annoyed. More pictures flash around me, and they hush unexpectedly, until another reporter pipes up.  
“What do you think will come of this victory for your guild?”  
I smile, turning to face the female reporter. “Submission from every mages guild. We are the best, and everyone has seen it. These battles the past few days are just a small sample, just a taste, a single facet, of our power. We are the Black Hand, and we obey the Dread Father until our dying breath. We do not back down, and we do not falter. This is our promise. No one crosses the Black Hand and lives, just the same way that no one will survive a contract when we go after you.”  
Everyone stops, until a camera flashes, and then it’s a multitude of people, continuing to flash cameras to get a picture. I stop at no more questions, answer nothing else, and go to the infirmary.  
We are Family, and I tend to my Family in the same way as everyone else.  
With care, respect, and value.  
I smile, and move into the healing building, where no reporters are allowed, courtesy of Porlyusica.

Nearly every bed is occupied in the building, some closed off for privacy, some open to be talked to. In one bed lies Laxus, Lucy at his side, both of them sleeping and snuggled close. It brings a smile to my face, and then I turn to glance at the others. Natsu and Lisanna, sitting on a bench, conspiratorily whisper about me and glare. Eve and Jenny cluster close together with Sherria and Lyon by them, peering up at me nervously. Mirajane and Minerva are both in beds, heavily damaged, both of them, unconscious. Levy is in another bed with Gajeel sitting beside her, awake but guilty looking. Sting tries to talk to Rogue, but he’s unresponsive, refusing to speak to his comrade for some reason. I narrow my eyes and follow his line of sight. It’s resting on Nightshade, who’s laughing with Morrigan and recounting her separate battles to those not present. Lucifer and Noctus, both rather bandaged, but smiling, are nodding along, laughing and acting generally cute. Wendy lies still with her mate, Romeo, at her side, holding back tears and clutching her hand.  
Arana and Millianna are attended by Kagura, sitting between her guildmates. She flinches away when she sees me. I smile coldly and nod at her. She is a valiant fighter. Dobengal, on the other side of Sting, talks to him, the White Dragon Slayer forgoing his partner’s company. Gildarts lies on a bed while Cana is struggling to stay awake next to her. Bacchus, next to her, pats her on the shoulder, comforting her just a bit and making her smile, so that she leans back in the chair, finally able to sleep for a bit. Rocker is sitting next to Bacchus, asleep with his head bandaged. Is he unconscious or sleeping? Not sure.  
Jura is on the other side of the building, resting comfortably in a bed next to Hoteye. On Richard’s left is Meredy, Jellal sitting in the chair between them, asleep. Flare is lying in a bed, Nexus looking over her and any others he might have poisoned with a critical eye, watching for signs that he didn’t quite cure them. Vidaldus, though, is sitting next to her, making me lift an eyebrow in surprise. A curtained bed that I pass through houses Ortelloth, with Kessie worrying over her. I place a hand on her shoulder, and she looks up. “You’re not alone, Kessie. She’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”  
She smiles, then turns her gaze back to her partner, relieved enough to stroke her hair back. Exiting the private area, I look around some more, finding Cobra by Midnight’s side, Midnight doing what he loves and Cobra copying his mate. Rustyrose looks after both Racer and Orion in their beds, sitting between them and reading a Sorcerer’s Weekly magazine, any bruises or cuts he has not visible under several bandages. Erigor is lying calmly, laughing with Kurohebi about something the snake like man said.  
Morrigan, breaking off from the group, enters a curtained space, and I know that Hibiki is behind there. I smile faintly, knowing that they are quite alike and well suited for the other.  
The last curtained bed, I enter, and find Bickslow in. He’s still unconscious, but he’s alive and breathing. I breath a sigh. I know I didn’t injure him seriously, but I had my doubts. This is good, to see him in the flesh, alive and well under Porlyusica’s care.  
I feel the world around me disappear, and I sigh with relief, but I know that I have to move decisively, and soon.  
Taking one last look at his sleeping form, I hesitate again, and reach for his hand, to show some kind of affection, but stop. Would he want that?  
I turn and leave, not touching my Mate. My Dragon instincts are yelling at me, but I ignore them, allowing them to scream at me behind bars in my mind. I’ve been doing this for years; it’s no difference.  
Only that my Mate is currently injured, and I could literally have him on his feet in seconds. There’s also the matter of our… relationship. (159)  
Not the best.  
I exit the infirmary and move off, seeking out Decimus and Fukuro. If I find one, I’ll find the other.

The last event tied to this stupid proving is the ball, something I thought I’d keep, if nothing more than to purely show exactly how much power I have gained and now control in the world, in their world.  
Reporters are already gathered outside, and I let one in, the one who actually listened to me.  
“Off the record.” Decimus commands, and she shuts off her recording lacrima, tapping her fingers together.  
“You work for us now. You will never publish something that projects us in a bad light. Otherwise, your actual reporting skills will be fine. Any missteps will be recorded, and after three, we will find a new reporter to represent us. Understood?”  
She breathlessly nods, and Decimus hands her some papers with a pen. Glancing around, she signs the contract, and he exits. “You have fifteen minutes; make it count.”  
Hastily, she turns on the lacrima again, approaching the throne I’m sitting on and bowing low. I indicate a seat for her and smile, looking the picture of a generous ruler.  
She checks the lacrima, making sure it’s recording, and pulls out a pen and paper as well. A back up, good thinking.  
“So, Listener, what do you think will come about of your guild winning the Grand Magic Games?” she asks, clearing her throat.  
I chuckle. “I’d like to know your name first. That’d be rude to not know such a charming woman’s name.”  
She blushes, and answers, “Elena. Elena Windershins.”  
I smile, looking at her kindly. “Well then, Elena, would you like to ask me your questions in a more comfortable setting? We have a lovely chef here; makes wonderful cake. Tea’s good, too.”  
She laughs a bit, and I stand, guiding her towards the tea room, with less space and more cushions. The throne room is really more for making an impression, and I have made that more than adequately.  
Elena settles in with some tea and a piece of cake, her eyes sparkling when she tastes it.  
My outfit is a red cropped shirt, wrapped around me with flowing sleeves, red and gold, exposing my stomach and several not-as-noticeable scars. A red belt keeps up my black pants, with boots sharpening the look. My circlet sits on my head, my hair twisted up, starting from below the intimidating crown. Earrings of skulls, a lone silver and emerald bracelet, black gloves, and a black choker collar completes the look. My wings flare out behind me, and my eyes keep up with black eyeshadow giving them more points with red. Black lipstick marks my lips in a smile, amused and happy to give answers.  
Elena finishes her cake, and gets down to the questions. “Excellent cake.”  
I laugh. “I know; it’s a fun recipe. I’m a disaster in the kitchen, though. Baked goods don’t like me.”  
She laughs with me, and gets down to it. “What do you think the reaction will be with your guild winning the games?”  
“I hope it’s positive, of course; but everyone has favorite guilds that they wished to win. I can’t control people’s opinions; I’ll be disappointed in them of course, but I can’t blame them. Everyone has their right to their own individual views.”  
Elena, scribbling this down, smiles. “What do you think about the rumors of Acnologia flying around, terrorizing towns?”  
I frown. “Obviously this is a problem. I myself will be on the lookout for the dragon; if I find him, or if he finds me, either way, he’ll be gone.”  
“You can say this with absolute certainty?”  
“Of course. I am a professional.” I smile, and Elena chuckles.  
“My time is almost up, it seems. What do you think about the perception about you as a ruler and a person?”  
“I think that people are eager to judge me, but I won’t let that stop me. I am confident that I can win the people over. Any person is welcome to lobby their case, no matter how small it is, to me personally. Fighting for equality and help for those in need of it is something I fully intend to do. Including holding people accountable for their actions.”  
“Does that include any mages who destroy property, like the reputation that the guild of Fairy Tail has?”  
“That does, although I hope I won’t have to. That’s not a pleasant conversation to have, at all. I wouldn’t want to have to disband them until they can take responsibility for their actions.”  
Elena and I chuckle, only disturbed by Decimus poking his head in. Elena takes this as her cue. She turns off the lacrima, puts her notes away in her bag, and shakes my hand. “It was an honor to meet you. I look forward to other interviews, hopefully longer.”  
I laugh, and nod. “Of course, I like nice reporters.”  
Sharing a final laugh, she’s escorted out by royal guards, and in about five minutes this room is going to be full of hostile, angry mages, and protective, calm mages. This is going to be fun, isn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 158- Confidence? Or arrogance? I can use the former.  
> 159- Is that what it’s to be called now? I don’t know.


	16. Ballroom Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is To Build An Army by Evening Star.

The ballroom is decorated with red, the walls painted black, accented with gray. Side chandeliers hang in a circle, simple light fixtures, and one main one is in the center, directly above the dance floor, the crystals tinged a light red, perfect (160) for the room.  
Sheer red cloth drapes throughout the room, hanging from the ceiling and creating a lovely atmosphere. Red carpet leads up the stairs on the sides, with the space in the middle bare of both carpet and furniture, with seats hugging the walls. Tables are on the lower level, already set and ready to be dined upon once they’ve placed their order. Both tables and chairs are made of polished black wood, gleaming in the light, the seats cushioned with red, the tableware and utensils gold with black vines decorating them. Wine sits on every table, crystalline goblets aplenty with black stems keep them steady. Every setting has a menu on it, and all of it is perfect.  
Until, of course, my guests eventually arrive. Usually, I’d think about a big table so everyone could converse with everyone else, but I’d rather not be grilled by impetuous mages still angry at me for besting them without lifting a finger.  
Beaming, I whirl around, and greet the first to arrive, all of my guild that participated, including Fukuro and Decimus. Of course they’re invited.  
I congratulate all of them, and allow them all to choose their seats, Nightshade taking one right next to me and Morrigan one seat to my left. Lucifer and Noctus claim their own, at their own table, and Orion sits one seat from Morrigan, with Nexus at his side. Each table seats 8, and no one else sits at ours, Midnight and Cobra straying across from Lucifer and Noctus, Cobra patting Midnight’s arm (161). Ortelloth and Kessie stand across from the empty seating, which is quickly taken by Fukuro and Decimus, the two talking fondly, smiling the whole time. Fukuro looks uncomfortable in a suit, and without his jetpack. (162)  
At the other tables, Vidaldus, Rustyrose, Kurohebi, Racer, and Erigor take their seats, all in one table, talking about stuff. It’s nice to see Kurohebi taking so well to his teammates. They’re welcoming him with open arms; or, at least, the most open arms in our Family. (163)  
As everyone in our Family claimed (164) their seats, the rest of the guests arrived.  
First to come through the doors are Lucy and Laxus, holding hands. The couple scans the room, and find an empty table. (165) Lucy sets down her purse, and Laxus, his coat on the seat. Gajeel and Levy follow, Levy leading him to the same table, with her sitting to the right of Lucy, Gajeel following Laxus’ lead. Levy puts her glasses to the right of the table setting. Sherria and Lyon, along with Wendy and Romeo, follow the Dragon Slayers and their mates to the table, Lyon claiming the seat next to Laxus and Sherria next to him, Wendy next to her and Romeo taking the last seat available.  
Two couple tables already. Lovely.  
Jellal and Meredy, together like normal, move to another table, followed by Lisanna, Natsu, Eve, Jenny, Jura and Hoteye, all claiming their seats in that order. Convenient.  
Gildarts leads Cana to the nearest unoccupied table, her latching onto Bacchus and snagging him a seat next to her, on her right, while Gildarts got the one to the left. Rocker follows his teammate, only able to get the seat next to Gildarts, the ones to the right of Bacchus caught by Mirajane, Kagura, Arana and Millianna.  
The last few stragglers are Sting, Dobengal and Flare, Flare courageously taking the seat next to Vidaldus, looking stunning in a revealing red dress. (166)  
The absolute last, however, finally comes through the door, and it’s Rogue, supporting Hibiki, though it’s more mutual than you’d think. Morrigan tries not to look to excited, and I smile, shaking my head at the minor display of affection. I think there’s a bit more there than they’d like us to know.  
Of course, most people aren’t even paying attention.  
Hibiki takes the seat in between Morrigan and Orion, laying down his jacket on the seat. Rogue shyly looks around, spying only two seats left, one right near him and next to me, the other next to Nightshade. He moves around the table to the one next to Nightshade. She looks at him warily, and the doors close behind us, startling almost everyone, except Morrigan, Hibiki and I.  
I smile wryly, amused. “Dinner will be served in a small while. If you would follow Lucifer and Noctus onto the dance floor up a level.”  
The lovebird pair, already halfway there, don’t even notice that I’ve used them to avoid this. I swear, if he doesn’t propose soon, I’ll be forced to take drastic measures.  
Maybe I’ll send them on a mandatory vacation.  
Pairs of couples rush towards the dance floor, seemingly eager to get away from me. Several people, without partners, move up anyway, although some linger. Behind Noctus and Lucifer, go Fukuro and Decimus, strolling along, delightfully reminding everyone both how cute they are, and how different. Cobra escorts a drowsy Midnight, blushing furiously as Kessie coos. Said mage is scooped up by Ortelloth, eskimo kissing her and carrying her up the staircase, Fukuro in turn teasing them. Neither pays attention.  
Lucy leads Laxus, who looks like he could kill someone from being in such a restrictive suit, with Gajeel being lead in a similar fashion by Levy. He still hasn’t tamed his hair.  
Natsu and Lisanna take the next spot, accompanied by Lyon and Sherria. Something tells me they’ll either become great rivals or great friends. Maybe both.  
Wendy fusses with Romeo’s bowtie, who looks uncomfortable without his scarf. Eve escorts Jenny out to the floor, though both of them look at Hibiki in confusion. Bacchus glides onto the dance floor with Cana, sweating because of how pointedly Gildarts is looking at him. Vidaldus, looking around, shrugs, and offers his hand to Flare. She blushes, but accepts his hand. (167)  
Nexus offers his hand to Orion, who smirks and accepts, going up the opposite staircase. (168)  
Morrigan places a hand gently on Hibiki’s shoulder, who looks at her and smiles, the two following Nexus and Orion, albeit more slowly, as Hibiki is still injured.  
Jellal and Meredy, both looking sad, glare at me as they pass by. I watch them, smiling, and connect to the guards under my control, giving them orders to not let either of them leave the building. I want to deal with them later.  
Mirajane clamps her hand on Kagura’s arm, leading her up the stairs defiantly, glaring at me the whole way. (169) Racer halts at the table that still has women, offering his arm to Arana, who looks around but finds that Millianna is already on her way to the floor with Rocker, looking somewhat forlorn at both the lack of dance partners and the unluckiness of the situation. Sighing, the web mage accepts, and lets the bold man lead her up.  
Sting, cursing himself, pulls at Dobengal, the pair the only non Brotherhood mages left, moving onto the floor with their hands in their pockets and looking uncomfortable at the very idea. Jura and Hoteye climb the same stairs with them, laughing and cheering the duo up. Kurohebi, Rustyrose and Erigor, all laughing, go up the lesser used staircase, already making bets on who’d fall down first.  
Literally the only one who didn’t have a partner, and only three of us left on the lower levels, Rogue coughs and offers his hand to Nightshade.  
Surprised, she hesitantly accepts, and I narrow my eyes at Rogue, before darting close.  
“I’m watching you.” I growl, then move up the stairs behind them, the Shadow Dragon Slayer looking frightened, perhaps more so than Bacchus right after Gildarts’ unspoken threat.  
As I peer around the dance floor, the last one to walk up there, I see dresses swirling with enthusiasm as the songs start up, a magic sound system playing. Most people now have smiles on their faces, the tension easing in the presence of the friendly atmosphere and familiar music.  
It probably also helps that almost no one will be interacting with me that doesn’t want to. I relax against the railing, just watching, a bit wistful.  
Couples, some comfortable, some not, some cute, and some horrible matches, pass by, twirling around the ballroom and laughing.  
I see Flare Corona and Vidaldus slow dancing, his hands on her waist, not dropping lower in a rare (170) instance, her hands wrapping around his neck, her hands gripping her wrists. The pair moves from side to side, neither as adept at dancing as others seem to be. I smile, happy that he found someone. On the other side of the place, Lucifer and Noctus dance, Noctus resting her head on his chest, eyes closed, content to simply be together. He rests his chin on her head, the pair still in typical waltz style, slowly rotating by memory alone. (171)  
Decimus is talking with Fukuro, whom I doubt is listening, mainly because he looks enraptured by his partner’s face. Cobra is dancing with Midnight, who looks so happy it’s ridiculous. Midnight loves to dance, almost more than cuddles and sleeping. Almost. (172)  
Kessie and Ortelloth, though, are perfectly fine, Kessie leading the way to the center of the dance floor and not even following the rhythm of the music. Ortelloth just smiles fondly and assists her, moving her around when she poses, glamour shots that she generously gives away.  
Lucy and Laxus are dancing, moderately, although I’m sure that Lucy would be exceptional with a good partner, but Laxus blunders across the dance floor with the grace of a herd of lemmings.  
Through that, though, she’s laughing, either at his gracelessness or his expression, like a storm cloud with eyes and a forced smile on his face. That gradually changes, though, and he looks at Lucy like she’s his everything, the only person in the room that matters to him, which is true in a lot of senses.  
I feel a pang of sadness, knowing that that’s never happened with me. I wonder if it ever will. (173)  
The other couples move about, some looking awkward, some having revelations about their partners and how crazy they are, some shuffling about in a way that makes me want to stab them in the eye with a fork.  
I’m not supposed to, probably because it’d be bad, but I don’t like that look in Rogue’s eyes, when he gazes at Nightshade. (174)  
I don’t move, wishing I had my fan for something to do other than make people feel uncomfortable with my viewing. I think it’s either the pallor of my skin of my eyes that make them feel… skittish under my sight.  
Kurohebi and Nexus waltz over, Kurohebi dipping Nexus, who smirks at me and raises an eyebrow. I raise mine in response, and start giggling. He certainly knows how to bring a smile to my face.  
The two stop dancing, leaning against the railing with me and talking. “So, Listener, what did you think of our performance during the games?” Nexus asks, cool as a cucumber. Kurohebi looks at me with his head cocked.  
“You both did very well; I’m very proud. Especially because you, Kurohebi, you helped bring down Minerva and Levy, and your use of Bacchus’ palm magic was- is- still admirable. And Nexus, I’m very glad you upheld your own code. Are either of you very injured?”  
Kurohebi shrugs, his arms seeming to elongate when he crosses them, blushing slightly at the praise. Nexus smiles at his companion, and tweaks his cheek, before bumping my arm. “We’re fine, Listener. You want to dance?”  
“You want to die?”  
“You’re that bad?”  
I blush, and look away. “Last time I danced I put three people in comas. I didn’t even hit them. It just happened.”  
Nexus chuckles, and Kurohebi smiles, turning his head back up to a normal position.  
Kurohebi perks up, “You want lessons?”  
“Not if the teacher wants to die unexpectedly.” I joke, semi serious. Mostly serious, actually. It’s terrible. I shouldn’t be allowed on a dance floor, unless I am gently swaying. Very, very gently.  
All of us laugh, and Nexus looks at me. “I can summon a dance partner for you, you know.”  
My eyes gleam with magic. “I can, too. Doesn’t mean I want to injure any of my spirits.”  
Kurohebi smiles, looking away. He’s in a wrap around suit, which suits him better than any suit could. The pants are slightly looser, but still clingy and reminiscent of what he usually wears. The sleeves of the top go down to his wrists, where he still has his wrist cuffs on. A belt holds up the pants, black and green, gleaming in the light. His boots tuck the pants in, about mid calf, and they shine with newness. I suspect Orion and Nexus took him shopping in the short while between the events of this morning and this party. He really does look like a snake, though.  
Nexus looks just as good. He’s wearing a shirt, although it’s cropped, so I don’t know if that counts, but it shows off his abs perfectly, the navy blue tee covering his shoulders and neck as well as his pectorals. His skirt is a striped blue, shorter than normal, to his knees and wrapped in the front, coming together in strips of blue and black, a belt keeping it together and an ornament hanging off of it to keep it secure. Gold wristlets cover his forearms, glinting in the light and making it dance. His hair, blonde and cut close, is spiked up, the mage self conscious over the amount of hairspray a person can smell on him. (175)  
I smile at the mage, and nudge him back, more comfortable now that their cheerfulness has brought me figuratively back from the dead. Morrigan and Hibiki, swirling around the dance floor dramatically, aided by Morrigan’s wind powers and Hibiki’s prowess at dancing. The two, after circling the dance floor twice, come back to stand before me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 160- I've had this thing since 4E256, when a visiting vampire clan's lord gave it to me at Volkihar as a token of gratitude for sheltering him and helping him weed out traitors in his group. Yes, I tinged the crystals with the traitor and weaklings' blood. Got a problem?  
> 161- Adorable. Just, just.... adorable.  
> 162- It's weird for everyone.  
> 163- I still remember how hostile Arnbjorn was when I was a newbie. After I became a werewolf, even though he was dead, I thought about him. I also started thinking of people as snacks.  
> 164- I mean literally, we put something there to indicate it was ours. Until the others came in, actually, we stood behind them as well. No one is sitting down at this point.  
> 165- This really isn't that hard, only three tables have been touched.  
> 166- She rocks it. I'm quoting Vidaldus.  
> 167- Aside from being a rather good mage, he's quite handsome. Especially since he's got his hair tied back in a bun. It's..... adorable.  
> 168- Said staircase circles the room. It's the same on the upper level, which leads to a throne. I'm no architect, Rustyrose did this.  
> 169- I'm not sure what she's trying to do, it doesn't make sense to me.  
> 170- And I mean, rare.  
> 171- They go dancing every month, at least. It's a tradition; Noctus trips over her own feet if they do anything other than a slow waltz.  
> 172- Cobra's starting to look a little sick, though.  
> 173- I doubt it, but my optimistic side is insisting we do not give up hope.  
> 174- He's gazing. I need to stop this.  
> 175- It's actually not that heavy, but he's adorable with his self consciousness. The hair is also quite cool.


	17. Get Ready to Rumble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Shake It Off by Taylor Swift. Hey, it fits.

“Listener.” Morrigan breathes, and I look at her in interest, tilting my head to match hers.  
Hibiki pauses, whispering something in her ear, and she nods, smiling at me. “We’ll be back.”  
They start to circle the dance floor again, much slower this time, and Orion comes over, bringing me a glass of champagne. I smile at him, as Nexus and Kurohebi talk, going to get some punch. Light appetizers and drinks are on a table hewn of oak at one side of the dance floor.  
“So, Orion, how have you been doing?” I ask, looking at the bandages immediately made obvious by his rolled up sleeves, the suit jacket on his chair down below.  
He smiles, taking a sip of his own drink. “Better. Porlyusica is a wise wizard, and very good at healing. If you don’t make too much noise.”  
“Reminds me of Neloth.” I mutter into my drink, and Orion laughs. “Very true.”  
“Anything else of interest?” I ask, watching the dance floor again.  
“I noticed that Rogue is starting to get closer to Nightshade…. Might you want to look into that?” Orion suggests, a concerned expression on his face, though a smirk threatens to break out on his face. Mixed feelings for Nightshade with him. (176)  
I glare at the offending Dragon Slayer, who feels it, and looks up, frightened, while Nightshade doesn’t notice, looking uncomfortable. Like me, she cannot dance, at least very well.  
“I should petrify that man.” I growl, and Orion laughs even harder. Morrigan and Hibiki arrive just in time, blocking my path to the Shadow Dragon Slayer and not allowing me to throw firebolts at him, or worse.  
“Listener.”  
“I have a Dragon Slayer to murder, what is it?” I ask, impatient.  
Hibiki looks rather concerned, looking behind him to try and identify it. Sadly, the man in question has moved out of target range.  
“Hibiki would like to be considered to join the Brotherhood.”  
I stop glaring over their shoulders, and blink in surprise, looking at Morrigan. “Seriously?”  
She nods. “Yes. His Archive magic and Gravity, as well as telekinesis and telepathy could definitely work in our favor, although he only wants to hunt down the really terrible people.” She explains.  
“I can definitely see a spot for you in our organization, Hibiki. The contracts for the terrible people shouldn’t be too hard, it already works for Nexus and Morrigan, as well as a few other people. You would be most welcome in our Family. Morrigan could even teach you our ways.” I look at the pair, and see something there.  
I smirk. “Of course, I could always pair him up with Nexus. He knows the code just as well as you do, Morrigan.”  
Hurriedly, she objects. “No! I, I mean, no, I think it’d be better for both of us if it was me who taught him. I mean, we’ve already bonded a bit.”  
I pretend to consider it, and then smile. “Very well. You can guide him to one of our Sanctuaries and start teaching him as soon as this event is over, or you can stay here for one more night and then travel out. The dark does give good cover, though, for all sorts of dark deeds.” I suggest, smirking specifically at Morrigan.  
She blushes, and Hibiki does as well. “We’ll wait for tomorrow, get a good night’s rest.”  
“I’m sure you will.” I reply, amused.  
The pair blush even more, Hibiki starting to protest, before I wave them off. “I kid. Go do something.”  
Morrigan smiles at me, and pulls Hibiki back towards the dance floor, this time heading for the refreshments and appetizers.  
I’ve lost sight of Nightshade, and I move my head, pushing my hair back slightly, tired of it flashing itself in my face. While I take pride in it, it’s a heavy price to pay for it’s gorgeousness. It’s pulled back, tied above my circlet and forming a bun that has extra hair cascading down, arranged to the left of my face. In doing so, I catch a glimpse of the doors opening again, and in comes Neloth, pulling Bickslow behind him, who looks like he wishes to be anywhere but here. The Telvanni Master Wizard takes a quick glance around at the tables and the chairs, finding the only open seat left and swings off Bickslow’s cloak, putting it on the chair to hold his place. He looks up, waving at me. What is he doing?  
The Dark Elf huffs at Bickslow’s inactivity, and pushes him up the staircase, in a very comical fashion. I giggle quietly at the sight, knowing the Neloth could probably never push him up the stairs. Undeterred, he continues to try, until Bickslow finally sighs and moves up the stairs on his own, his visor covering his eyes still, but a smirk on his face at the valiant effort of Neloth. He slows halfway up the stairs, looking up and feeling my gaze. He flushes, and I reevaluate my choice of dress. (177)  
My red to black gradient dress is perfect, with a slit in it that goes up to about my knee, and trailing behind me is some extra fabric tied off. Colors to show off my allegiance, and the slit allows me to show off my shoes, gladiator sandals, flat so that I’m not towering over anyone anymore than I generally am. The gown itself dips into my cleavage, covering me fully but going a bit further than necessary, just a few inches in the crevice between them. On my arms are sleeves, a darker red than my dress, going from where my arm becomes my shoulder to my hands, covering the backs of them in a triangle form. A black framework and white stone necklace takes advantage of my exposed skin around my neck and trails into the dip just by a tip, and my earrings are as long as I could find, metalwork from a talented silversmith in Markarth, not so long ago that I found them at their establishment. Dark red lipstick and black eyeliner complete the look, giving me an authority look without even trying.  
The Telvanni wizard catches up to my Mate, chatting breathlessly and making Bickslow look at him with concern. I didn’t know that vampires could pass out from lack of oxygen. (178)  
Bickslow helps him up the staircase, the Telvanni wizard panting heavily. He inclines his head towards me.  
I raise my eyebrows, questioning why he would even do this, but don’t say anything until he’s gasping for air in front of me, hands on his knees.  
“Hello, Neloth.” I greet him, and he waves at me, immediately putting his hand back on his knee. Too much blood, I suspect.  
Bickslow and I refuse to look at each other, until Neloth has regained his breath. Over their shoulders, while they’re still distracted, I mouth to Morrigan, ‘Distraction.’  
She nods in understanding and changes the music, from a slow dance to something you dance to in the club. This also activates the lights, making it hard to distinguish us not on the dance floor.  
Neloth finally rights himself, and grins. “Listener, I thought it would be prudent for Bickslow here to meet his progeny.”  
My eyes widen, and I blink at him. Bickslow looks at him, then at me confused. “What?”  
“Your child, Bickslow. I believe she’s the one called Nightshade, correct?” The Dark Elf Volkihar Vampire points out, and every Dragon Slayer in the room turns, looking at this altercation.  
Nightshade herself turns to look at Neloth, and notices the look on my face.  
“Neloth, run.” she speaks, and he glances at her.  
“Why would I do that?” he scoffs, and then looks back at me.  
“Oh…. that is, unless, of course, he didn’t…. ehheheh…. didn’t know.” The master wizard backs away slowly, and then runs down the staircase. My eyes follow him, and as soon as he’s out of my sight, I run after him, in formal dress and all.  
“Listener, wait! We should talk about this!” Bickslow calls down, confused still, but I have to go hurt that damn arrogant bastard.  
“We’ll talk later.” I growl out, making the floor rumble slightly from the power of my Thu’um.  
I’m losing control of it.  
I’m glad.

Neloth is running down a long straight corridor, and for a moment I wish I still had my wolf form, so I could transform and tear his throat out.  
I am a vampire, however, and don’t quite wish to taste the elf’s blood. I hear something like footsteps behind me, but I keep running, not caring about anything but hunting down my prey. Calling up a lightning spell, I fire it at him, and he winces, but continues running. (179)  
I tap into more magic, pulling out a Black Lightning spell, and firing it at him, scorching the hallways floors and walls. It hits him, forcing a startled shriek out of him and sending him flying into the wall.  
A Neloth shaped imprint is all that remains, and I hear him running down the hallway, slower than before, taking to his left, my right.  
I follow the trail, and smile when I find him cornered, desperate to move but he cannot without passing by me. I love hide and seek this way.  
He’s terrified, but smiles, and offers his hands up. “Sorry?”  
I’m more incensed by this, and slam him with a Black Rondo, going to familiar spells within my rage.  
“Krii Lun Aus!” I Shout, and he whimpers at the shout, feeling the effects drain him of his health and any defenses he has.  
Another lightning spell silences him temporarily, and I watch the sparks play along his skin with the most basic of destruction spells of lightning. He groans in pain, his vocal chords not able to put out the amount of volume required to express his pain.  
Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder.  
“I think that’s enough.” I hear Bickslow say, and I stop the spell, putting it away and scowling at the Dark Elf.  
Bickslow guides me back to the ballroom gently, and I can feel confusion radiating off him in waves. This is going to be a fun night, isn’t it?

On the walk back to the ballroom, I look at the walls and the damage wrought on it by me in my rage. I didn’t even notice the fact that I had an aura surrounding me, which twisted the hallway into not so nice shapes. I touch one, pulling my finger back and looking curiously at the blood. Not so nice indeed. They’re shaped like jagged rocks, stalagmites and various other dangerous things that I’ve seen in the world.  
It would be beautiful if one doesn’t know what caused it. Pure, unfiltered, raw rage. At a certain Dark Elf Telvanni wizard.  
My hands spark just thinking about it, and Bickslow, knowing a thing or two about losing control, grabs them, and tells me to breath. I do so, empty as anything because of what just happened. It’s not easy to keep a secret for almost 16 years and then have it blurted out before you’re ready for that to come to the light. Is it?  
The doors before the ballroom remain closed, and Bickslow waves his hand in front of my face.  
“Listener, I know that you don’t want to talk about it, or even act like it happened, but it did. We can talk about it later, but we can also pretend like everything’s fine until you feel ready, or I force it out of you. Can you do this?” he says, gripping my face and staring into my eyes. I see the red irises, outlined in green through the visor, and I feel some semblance of myself start to return.  
I nod, and close my eyes, focusing on my Thu’um. I fill myself up with the word, Qahnaarin, one of my many titles, and one that I bear most proudly, right after Listener. I am the Vanquisher; I am the strongest, the fastest, the smartest, and the most worthy of anything that life can throw at me. The world itself has called upon me to save it- I can handle this. If nothing else, I can do damage control well. I can control this, as long as I control myself.  
I reopen my eyes, my sense of self returned, and we enter the room. The last few dregs of the songs are rebounding down to the lower levels, and luckily no one has moved down here yet, except us. I take my Mate’s hand, pulling him towards our seats, and he follows. (180)  
Nothing stands in my way of conquering the world. Absolutely nothing, with my Mate by my side. I can conquer this just as easily, if not more so.  
I fix a smile on my face and sit calmly, looking at the menu and ordering something that I couldn’t care less about. The people are starting to come down from the dance floor, Morrigan and Hibiki the first ones, as he is still injured from their battle. Surprisingly, Nightshade walks down alone, for Rogue to follow with his eyes fixed on her back. I glare at him, not able to control it, but knowing he can’t control his instincts either.  
Bickslow appraises Nightshade, leaning over to me. “How?”  
“I’ll explain later, but essentially, magic.” I whisper, knowing that the music up a floor is still too loud for any Slayer of any kind to hear us. The guards, however, reach through their link and tell me that they’re in position to stop any kind of escape attempt from any of the Crime Sorciere. I’m pleased, taking a sip of my wine, and smile at Nightshade, who smiles back. Her eyes are still hidden, and Bickslow won’t stop staring at her, even though it’s hard to tell because of the visors on both of them. I’m positive that they’re having an invisible staring match, though; that seems like something they would do. (181)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 176- Due to the fact that he's got to protect her as a member of the Family, but conflicted because she injured him heavily when she was supposed to face the Wrath of Sithis. I can't blame him.  
> 177- Mates. Making you do everything to please them since the dawn of time.  
> 178- Technically we don't need oxygen, only blood. We use air for talking, and that's about it. It's nice, though, to have it available in a pinch. The longer we go without it, though, the easier we go feral. I've met a few that went too long with oxygen deprivation, went absolutely bonkers.  
> 179- He knows he's no longer a match for me. He's doing the wisest thing he can; run. He won't be running for long.  
> 180- I think he's doing this just for Nightshade, but he doesn't even know if it's true. So.... what is he doing this for?  
> 181- I mentally sigh at this point. I wonder what kind of childhood Nightshade- all right, Luna Laila- would have had if both of us had been there. Probably a confused one, unless I had gotten Bickslow to join the Dark Brotherhood beforehand, or when she was small.


	18. Suspenseful Evening Meal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Go To Sleep by Aftermath.

The Shadow Dragon Slayer takes his own seat next to Nightshade, dressed in a black tux, his hair covering his scar on his face. I sigh, standing up. I move over to him, and pull his hair back behind his ear. “Wear your scars proudly.”  
I glide back, Nightshade gazing at me hopefully and I smile just a tiny bit. My approval is granted, as long as he doesn’t hurt my baby girl.  
Bickslow looks at her some more, taking in her dress of deep purple, with a blue sash around the waist and a black piece on her chest, matching the strands wrapped around her right arm. Her hair, a black blue shade, is braided and looped, hanging off her head and down before the final strands coming down to her mid back. A small crown of flowers, light blue, decorate her head, and pale pink rose earrings accessorize the outfit. Her dress is so long you can’t see her shoes, which have a slight heel and are black as night, by the way. The finishing touch is her own mask, made almost entirely from gemstones and enchanted to hold back almost any power she has, if she can’t control it. Diamonds stop her eyes from truly being seen, the flaws in them creating a shield that’s easy to see through on one side; hers.  
Nightshade reevaluates him right back, seeing a bit of herself in him and he right back at her. His suit is rather crumpled from where Neloth was pushing him, but the personal touches of the blue and white stripes on the dress shirt are nice. The black suit pants fit well, and go with the jacket. He rolls up his sleeves, and I look around some more, seeing more and more filtering down from the dance floor. Kurohebi and Rustyrose are laughing, the Imaginative man using his magic to add to the story he’s telling his Brother.  
All in all, it seems like a pretty nice evening.  
“Bickslow!” shouts Laxus from atop the staircase. All the team members from Fairy Tail, actually, everyone not in our Family rushes over to the Seith mage.  
I guess I was wrong.

After everyone has finally taken their seats, which took much longer than it should have (182), the waiters start bringing out various foods, suited to the tastes of the future consumer. For example, Lucy has strawberry lemonade and a strawberry cheesecake accompanied by a delectable pasta with delicate herbs, garnished with mint and strawberries. (183)  
We all settle down to our meals, although some of ours are just for show. Mine, while full of tastes that would astound a normal person’s palate, is merely mediocre to me, as there is no blood in there for me to taste. Bickslow’s meal is likely the same, as is Kessie’s and, no doubt, Nightshade’s. Being a vampire, while lengthening your life indefinitely among other things, sometimes takes away from the experiences of life, while giving new ones. (184)  
Another advantage of being a vampire, as well as a High Elf, is advanced hearing. A scuffle is occurring outside the doors on the opposite side of where they entered. The Dragon Slayers are taking note of it, and I mentally send a message to the guards to quiet it down. Almost instantly, the sound cuts off, as if it is just a blip in a system.  
I take a sip of my wineglass, as the Dragon Slayers look about in confusion, their Mates wondering what they’re worrying about. Pointless. Bickslow, however, looks directly at me and raises an eyebrow. I respond with an eyebrow of my own. I’m just sitting here, sipping away.  
I can’t do anything about the scuffle until most people leave. Neloth and his idiocy have already screwed up this night enough. I don’t really wish another scandal. Through the link, I tell the guards under my control to keep the person causing the ruckus in custody, putting them in one of the cells under the palace, more importantly, one of the darker ones where you can’t see anything. Most people I keep in there come out ready to confess in ten minutes. I make them wait an hour at the least. (185)  
Moving on, I listen to the conversations around the table. Orion and Nexus, the former directly across from me, are having a very animated discussion about the pros and cons of both of their magics, which quickly devolves into a debate about which Lost Magic would be better in a fight.  
“For strategical thinking, nothing could be better than Time Magic!” Orion passionately argues.  
“True, but for a straight up fight, Imagination Magic would ultimately be more useful.”  
“The correct answer is both.” Hibiki adds to the conversation, him sitting next to Orion. The pair of arguing males turn to him.  
“Actually, Hibiki, Time Magic is very volatile. If you attempt to use it on other people or animals, it can kill you in retribution. Even using it on plants is risky. Lost Magics are all about karma and equal treatment.” I clarify, and the arguing persons regard me.  
“But if it was used to set up traps?” Nexus questions.  
“Excellent question. Most likely it would work out well, but, both points are valid. Ideally, the two could be used in conjunction and defeat most people by trapping them in a time decaying patch of land caged in by imaginative creatures, or something else akin to that.” I sip my drink calmly, pleased with the taste, reminiscent of blood. (186)  
“Where did the Lost Magics come from?” Rogue speaks up, curious. He looks directly at me.  
I smile slyly. “From the combination of different root magics, as I call them. They were the initial branches of magic. Alteration and Conjuration combined together made Imagination Magic or the ‘Lost’ Arc of Creation possible. I was there when it was first discovered; almost blew up the hold. Thankfully, it didn’t, but the person actually could not control the magic, always having it burst out in spurts of magic, uncontrollable. They ended up visiting the Augur of Dunlain, underneath where the original magic had occurred. Unfortunately, the only way it could be controlled was if their magic was locked away, and by my smithing skill and Sergius’ and mine enchantments, it was so made.”  
I swirl my drink thoughtfully. “That was a dark day in magical history. While Creation Magic is beautiful, it caused a breakdown and, quite possibly, the shortening of that student’s life. Too much magic energy released in a short time from one individual can shorten their lifespan, literally take off years of their lifespans. It consumes their magic within, that keeps every base being alive. He died a few years later, aging much too quickly. We tried to figure out the cause, and as the removal of the restraints did nothing, we did, in fact, understand why he was dying so rapidly. By that point, though, he was too far gone, and would have required a soul transfer, therefore destroying almost every aspect of his personality or twisting it in some way to something…. either dark, or evil. It was…. a cacophony of people trying to argue why we should or should not help him, as well as delegates from different countries wanting to get their hands on the power to have an edge over one place or the other. We forced them out, but what was an aberration then became commonplace.” (187)  
“Fascinating.” Hibiki mutters, and I look at him, smiling.  
“It is. Sad, but intriguing. History often is.” I state, and spear a mushroom onto my fork, popping it into my mouth. Normally, a mouthwatering delicacy, a truffle. To me, something that tastes vaguely like what it’s supposed to.  
Oh well.  
“What else do you know, Listener?” Rogue asks, carefully phrasing his words.  
I chuckle. “Much that no one else remembers. You will have to be more specific, though.” I chew another truffle while they think.  
“Was there any race that posed a threat to mankind?” Hibiki asks, genuinely interested.  
I frown. “Yes, but not just to mankind. To the beastial races and elves, as well. They were called the Falmer, or the Betrayed, by their non-corrupted survivors. The Falmer were once Snow Elves, living in Keizaal, a place that was rapidly being settled by Nords. They wished it for themselves, and started taking it by force, murdering Snow Elves until war was declared. The Nord forces quickly overwhelmed the Falmer, and turned to the Dwemer, fellow elves that built massive underground cities and had advanced magic, far beyond what we had then. Their steam powered mechanisms frustrated and hindered wizards for years, since they disappeared. The Dwemer, however, betrayed the Falmer, and gave them poisonous mushrooms to eat in terms of them sheltering the other elves. The fungi blinded them, and fueled a burning hatred of surface dwellers, man and mer alike, no discrimination at all. Eventually, they started to rebel under the Dwemer, and when the Deep Elves disappeared, the Falmer retained their bestial rage for all those above and walking in the sunlight.”  
I pause and sip my wine delicately, refreshing myself. “They languished in the Dwemer cities for centuries, perhaps longer, but eventually started gaining in intelligence again, not to the point where they would be able to actually kill every person above ground. Of course, the possibility remained. As the attacks on surface dwellers by the Falmer became more common, the Empire and the Thalmor came together and, with Dwemer experts guiding forces through the ruins of the lost cities, ended the threat. It happened on the same day at the same time. Battle mages, archers, scouts, infantry and heavy infantry, all of them were involved. Somehow, the Falmer were caught off guard and butchered, almost everywhere. I want to say that it was unnecessary, but, in all actuality, the coordinated attack on the surface world would have happened in mere months, had we not intervened. Falmer translations of their texts found at camps practically everywhere stated the same message.” (188)  
“That’s depressing.”  
“History usually is, funnily enough.” I sip my drink. Nothing on my plate is very appetizing at the moment.  
“Were you always confident that your team would win the Grand Magic Games?” Rogue asks, quietly, but everyone hears him.  
I smile and look at him. “You are a joy to be around.” (189)  
He doesn’t even blink, and I tilt my head to the side, still staring him in the eyes.  
“I had my doubts, yes. But a bit of doubt is much better than overconfidence and arrogance. Because those lead to downfall. Downfall leads to destruction and betrayal. I take care to avoid those. But my question is, did you believe you could beat us?”  
His eyes move away from mine, and he considers the question. Good boy.  
Rogue opens his mouth to answer when Bacchus stands up and yells from across the room, “WE CAN ALWAYS BEAT TYRANTS LIKE YOU!”  
The drunkard approaches me, and I sigh, nonchalantly sipping my wineglass. Always making trouble, these Quatro Cerberus wizards….  
Rocker joins him in his mad dash towards the most powerful person in the room. (190)  
“WHY? BECAUSE WE’RE FROM A GUILD THAT VALUES FAMILY!”  
“Friendship!” Lyon slams his fist on the table, Sherria beside him glaring angrily at me.  
“Power!” Jura stands up, adding his voice to the mix, Hoteye moving with him.  
Rocker tacks on an, “OH YEAH!”  
I sigh, swirling my drink one more time, take a big sip, and tap into Blood Magic.  
“You all partook in my hospitality, did you not?” I ask, innocently.  
They all stop, taken aback, and glance at the others. Of course, they all had done so. Others in the room, not standing, also regard one another, curious and slightly scared.  
“Your point is?” Richard, Hoteye, asks. Ah, yes. One of the Oracien Seis, former member. What a wonderful assassin he would have made.  
“You ate something that allows me to pronounce your death with a single word.” I whisper, but the silence in the room is absolute. In no way can someone not hear me. Just my words reverberate, and gasps follow.  
That’s right people. I’m evil.  
“You’re bluffing.” states a disbelieving Lyon. Sherria, right beside him, nods vigorously. “There’s no way we wouldn’t have noticed it.”  
“Would you like a demonstration?” I whisper, smiling and showing off my fangs. They glint in the light, and the tiniest of flinches appears on his person.  
“I don’t believe you.”  
I sigh, but shrug halfheartedly. “I warned you. Diin.”  
The Rotmulaag rumbles through the room, and, for a moment, nothing happens. Lyon smirks victoriously, before a wrenching sound echoes throughout the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 182- Laxus couldn’t stop crying. For some reason.  
> 183- It works.  
> 184- A new wine came out about a year after I became a vampire; everyone noted the hint of persimmon, while I could barely taste it. But, pureblood Volkihar Vampires are often not noted for their taste, but rather their prowess in battle and bloodthirstiness. Both of which somewhat pale in comparison to tasting subtleties.  
> 185- More often, it’s 3. But sometimes I’m merciful.  
> 186- I wonder if there’s such a thing of a drink combining wine and blood…. It could be interesting.  
> 187- The student died in peace, without pain. Collete and the Augur made sure of that. Their magic combined was…. beautiful.  
> 188- I personally hunted down the last of their kind, killing their leader. It made me sad about how this seemed to parallel the Snow Prince’s fall. But, it had to be done.  
> 189- I’m not being sarcastic here; no one else asks me this kind of thing Not even Nightshade, and everyone else in my organization wouldn’t dare. Well, Noctus and Morrigan might, Nexus wouldn’t care, Orion wouldn’t think of it, the ‘reformed’ ones, assassins from previous guilds would not wish to ask this for fear of it being seen as subordinance. Decimus is too sweet, he just wouldn’t ask it.  
> 190- Eh, kind of. Bickslow has grown in power and against each other, definitely, it would be a stretch. So it’s open to debate. Mostly which one of us strikes first.


	19. Destructive Ramblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Midnight Lament by Aurelleah, the Einarx Remix.

Lyon looks down at his chest, and seems surprised at the lack of him dying there.  
He turns to Sherria, and finds her choking on her own blood. The Marionette Mage collapses to the ground like one of her dolls when they’ve had their strings cut.  
Blood seeps through a wound, the Word of Power cuing the poison to eat through her stomach, continuing around her body and consuming her organs. Her heart burst first, followed by her lungs, the holes being filled with blood, now on my nice clean floor. (191)  
“Sherria…” Lyon gasps out, dropping to the floor to cradle her head.  
The last of her life sputters out, and her final gasp of air bubbles out of her in a bubble of blood, bursting a spattering his beloved’s blood all over Lyon’s face.  
“You….”  
Lyon stands up, shaking with fury.  
“You……..”  
He turns to face me, and I sip my wine a bit more, frowning at the lack of liquid in it.  
“YOU!” he sprints at me, and I sigh, then speak out, “Brendon.”  
He falls to the ground before he can get two more steps closer to me.  
Bacchus, the one who started this, charges after chugging the jar of alcohol he has with him at all times. Rocker joins him, the two powering up their attack.  
I jump up, leaping onto the actual table that I sat at moments ago, and moving across it. (192)  
I step down, Nexus holding his hands out together for me to descend gracefully. I nod to him in gratefulness, and turn my attention to the oncoming attack. No way to stop it without magical interference.  
I throw up both hands and use a Ward Spell, the effects bursting out of what they should be and actually containing the blast to where they release their spells, enclosing them in a ball.  
Nothing is damaged, thankfully, and I negate the spell once I can no longer feel a magical energy gathering on the other side. The magic fades, revealing them panting, and I murmur two more words.  
“Slen. Rein.” The first one fells Bacchus, and the other cripples Rocker.  
They sputter for breath, and I hear a few people protest, some vehemently, and a woman shouting, then sobbing.  
Jura moves towards me, and Hoteye joins him. “We cannot allow you to hurt our friends any longer. Therefore we challenge you to single combat- honorable.”  
“Pahlok.” I say Jura’s codeword, and he crumples to the floor. Arrogance suits him. He might be 4th in Wizard Saint power, but that’s nothing compared to me. Hoteye stands there, looking shocked, and I whisper, “Qoth.”  
He falls with no sound, falling onto Jura’s body.  
“Is anyone else going to protest?” I ask the room.  
No one responds, but my Brotherhood members smirk at the sight. Some don’t approve, but control and a hierarchy must be established. Threats must be neutralized.  
“Good.” I slink back to my seat, and the meal waits in silence, food long grown cold. A single waiter walks out with a bottle of wine.  
“More wine?”  
“Yes. Sithis knows what I’ve had to deal with today.”

Sithis knows what I’ve had to deal with today, I repeat in my head as I look at our newest prisoner. It’s the reporter I choose only hours ago, a traitor.  
“Ridiculous.” I say, and roll my eyes up to the heavens. “Simply ridiculous.”  
The meal has finished, most people gone to their hotels and places and such, as I did not have any right to keep them here. Yet.  
“Why not just kill her?” Nightshade asks.  
Yes, for some reason, she’s dragged herself along. Much she has to learn about being a leader.  
“Because she may have copies of the report hidden places. And I need to have it destroyed. She’s quite credible; it’d be hard to dismiss a story like this.”  
“Thank Sithis the editor was loyal.” Morrigan, also here, states. She evaluates the prisoner.  
“The incentives were a nice touch, too.” Nightshade adds. Noctus would be here, but she’d rather be with Lucifer. Can’t say I blame her. (193)  
“I believe it would be best to wheedle it out of her.” Nightshade continues. “Use torture if necessary.”  
“No. She hasn’t done anything evil or wrong.” Morrigan protests.  
“But she’s betrayed Mother’s trust. Isn’t that enough? Or are you defying the orders of your leader?”  
“I gave no such orders, Nightshade. Watch your tongue. Morrigan, what do you suggest?” I whip out, silencing my daughter while still regarding the prisoner.  
“If she does have any copies, she’s too dangerous to leave without knowing the location of them. But, we can’t exactly keep her here. If we kill her, it’ll have to be an accident and in no way connected to us. She hasn’t made it public yet that she is- was- our liaison. Therefore, it wouldn’t be so shocking if nobody cared about that part. But she is notable in her field, which is why you sought her out.” Morrigan analyzed.  
“Correct. But I do not wish to kill her; she could prove useful. I have an idea.” I state, and stalk over to the end of the cell block. Equipment is here.  
I pick up a syringe with black liquid in it, and bring it over. “This should work nicely. Instant compliance, although not tested on everyone. But, it should suffice for our purposes.”  
Nightshade and Morrigan suck in a breath each as they see the weapon I have in my hands.  
I walk into the cell and smirk in the darkness. She can’t see my face yet. She cracks one eye open and mumbles out a, “Hello?”  
I laugh quietly to myself, and approach her.  
“Hello there. Do you know what I’m going to do to you, traitor?”  
She squirms in her seat, not able to see who or where I am. “I-I-I’m not a traitor.”  
“Oh, but you are. Do not worry; this little remedy will fix all of your problems. Know what it’s called? Of course you don’t. I call it Unholy Vorpal Philter. You won’t be you after this. It’s been nice knowing you. Actually, it hasn’t.”  
I slam the needle into her skin, and inject the Philter into her. She screams in pain, and, once it’s all in there, falls unconscious immediately.  
“Sweet dreams.”

I return to my quarters and find Nightshade and Bickslow in a screaming match while Rogue stands near to her. Neloth, bruised, is being tended by Porlyusica, and the two obviously feel uncomfortable as hell, but their quipping hasn’t reached shouting level yet, so I’m content to leave them be. Morrigan is wincing at every other word, standing by Bickslow and looking through papers on my desk strewn about.  
The doors shut dramatically behind me, silencing the room and making them look at me.  
“Listener.” Morrigan nods, the first to greet me, and goes back to looking through documents.  
At once, it is calm. The fire crackles merrily in the grate, and Neloth and Porlyusica are quiet, their dispute settled, at least temporarily. Rogue has been standing silently the entire time.  
“Listener.” breathes Bickslow and Nightshade, at the same time. I’m tempted to say jinx.  
“What?” I ask, strolling towards the fire. The dungeons are rather cold.  
“Am I…. Is she….?” Bickslow tries, but words appear to fail him.  
Nightshade huffs. “Is Bickslow my dad?”  
I frown, crouching down to the fire to warm my hands more completely. I’ve changed since the dinner, before I visited the reporter. Instead of a ball gown and the like, I now wear a cloak of Vale Sabre Cat hides. It’s as luxurious as it is soft, and the patterns glow on the outside, providing some camouflage with fluctuating light, with a clasp of a miniature dragon head, made up purely of gems. The rest of my outfit is composed of low rise black flare jeans, a black belt with a metallic clasp keeping them up and holding onto my keys, a pouch of items, and Mehrunes Dagon’s Razor, all out of the way. It’s uncomfortable to have your hand brush up against an item that can potentially kill you in one swipe, no matter the damage dealt or armor integrity. Black combat boots, belted with silver clasps along their length, are hidden by the bell bottom jeans. They still pack a wallop, though. A cropped corset top, red underlying the white stringing up the corset section, just a shade or two above being sheer, and black everywhere else, completes the look.  
“It…. is somewhat complicated.” I answer, not looking away from the fire. It’s a lovely fire. See that color? Beautiful. (194)  
“How is it complicated?” Neloth grumbles, and I shoot him a warning look. He gulps, looks away, and shuts his mouth firmly. Porlyusica glances from Neloth to me and back, before glancing nervously at the ground. I make almost everyone nervous. (195)  
“Maybe Neloth, Porlyusica, Rogue and I should leave.” Morrigan states, and I nod. The aforementioned people walk out of the room, Neloth limping heavily. I can’t help but smirk at that.  
The doors close behind them, and I sigh, straightening up. Truth time, I believe.  
“Well?” Bickslow asks. I can’t bring myself to look away from the fire.  
“... Yes.” I answer.

“How?” they both ask. For never meeting before this tournament, they are ridiculously in tune.  
“Magic.” It sounds like a flimsy excuse, but it is the actual reason. Unfortunately, once I copied the material in the books and stored the originals in an impenetrable vault in Shadeleaf, I gave them to Neloth. Hey, the guy has a right to know what he’s up against. Arrogant Telvanni bastard that he is.  
“You’re kidding.” Bickslow sighs, and collapses into a chair. I give him a glance, and he looks…. well, exhausted is one way to put it, but boggled is another.  
“It is a… difficult concept to understand, even for me. But that is what happened. Blood and Dragon magic is more of an abstract theory than anything concrete.” I explain. It’s seriously confusing. I’ve poured over books related, even by a single mention, to the topics, but found nothing that really explains it. “Being a vampire and a Dragon Slayer makes things… overly complicated, to say the least.”  
Nightshade huffs. “I’m ashamed to be related to you.”  
For a second I believe she’s referring to me, but then I realize she’s glaring at Bickslow.  
“Do. Not.” I say, my voice practically oozing threat and death.  
She startles, and her eyes grow wide as she finds that I’m protective of my Mate. (196)  
“He wasn’t there to raise me! I can’t help it if I hate him!” she states, her voice growing in volume. I frown, growling under my breath.  
“While that is true, do not test me.”  
Nightshade takes a step forward. “I will do as I please, and if that includes insulting that incompetent, absentee father of mine, then I will!”  
Magic crackles between us as we glare at one another, until Bickslow puts a stop to it with a Baryon blast, his puppets adeptly flying between us.  
“Enough!” he shouts, and the two of us fly apart to opposite sides of the room.  
My Mate stands in the middle, looking at us both. “You should not fight, you are family. We are family.”  
“Family. My Family! My family isn’t you, you, you, heretic!” Nightshade blurted out, her voice rising to a shrill high, almost breaking my eardrums.  
“If the Black Hand ever accepts you into their ranks, I’ll kill you myself!” she screams out, and I rise, my head still down.  
“WULD!” I Shout, and travel to Nightshade’s position opposite. Calmly, I smile at her and hold her face gently in my hands. Her eyes try to decipher what I’m doing by looking within my own.  
“Nightshade. Luna. Luna Laila. If you ever speak of doing something like that ever again, I will challenge you to open combat and I will kill you. Nobody threatens a Dragon’s Mate and lives to tell the tale. I’m making a singular exception because you are my daughter.” I smile throughout saying this as Luna’s face drops any color it might have had, and she nods weakly at the end of my tirade.  
I release her, and she stumbles backwards, her limbs shaking in both terror and shock. Luna moves backwards, not looking, but actively seeking the door. She twirls out and the door closes on its own.  
Once she’s gone, the reality of what I’ve said- to my own daughter- sinks in, and I weakly fall into a chair. What…. I stare at my hands, the very same ones that held my daughter in place, my Luna, as I threatened her.  
The room seems… colder than before, I notice, as I draw my cloak around me, tighter. What did I….. what did I do….

Bickslow stands still, letting some of the silence calm both of us down. Reality slowly fades away, until I can only focus on our breathing. Its synchronicity. Simplicity. Smoothness.  
Maybe I can convince Sheogorath to vacation here and I rule the Shivering Isles for a while…..  
I chide myself mentally. That’s crazy. Which means if I offered, he’d take it.  
And probably kill thousands of people. (197)  
The evening wears on, well, early morning, but the two of us don’t do anything, the only movement coming from when Bickslow sits down, leaning against my chair and staring into the fire. Magically produced, it doesn’t consume fuel. Took a hell of a lot of magic to start it, though.  
Time passes without us noticing, until we both feel the inherent weakness that comes with the rising sun.  
Another day has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 191- Goddammit, I sweat to Sithis this always happens. Someone dies on a clean floor. Do you know how much effort it takes to clean a floor of blood? A lot. A whole Gaan Pogaas lot.  
> 192- I look ridiculous. Should never do this in a dress, ever. Just don't.  
> 193- It's been, what, seven days since Bickslow and I have been reunited? I shouldn't feel this strong a pull to him.  
> 194- It's a completely ordinary fire. I just don't want to look at the people I'm with at the moment.  
> 195- Especially when I'm pissed. As I am currently. Fancy that.  
> 196- This really shouldn't surprise me. Or her. But the closer you are to your Mate, physically or emotionally, et cetera, the more protective you are of them. She used to insult her father all the time, and I didn't care. But now.... if she did, I believe I'd rip her head off. Somewhat unintentionally.  
> 197- I shouldn't let that happen.


	20. Separations and Tribulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Island Pt 1 Dawn by Pendulum.

The day is not nearly as exciting as before, the Grand Magic Games over, a winner declared, and the frenzy over. Neloth is still cowering at the sight of me, so that’s good. Among the people gathered, there are several awkward situations. Created, almost solely, by me.  
Kurohebi and Flare, the only surviving representative members of Raven Tail, stand apart from everyone else, as Vidaldus greets the two of them, the guitar-wielding mage excited to start training the two of them and introduce them to the rest of the Family.  
He came to me earlier this morning and asked for the opportunity of training Flare, who expressed interest in both him and our organization, if she could take care of the evil people instead of innocents. I made a decision to let her in.  
We aren’t as exclusive as we used to be.  
The others, not moving to our side, as it seems to be designated, glare at them, Kurohebi in particular. His new armor clings to him in all the right spots, and I can think of at least seven people off the top of my head who will immediately appreciate it, in our Family. He’s going to be…. groomed. And we’re a Family. It’s not like we would ever stand for something as unsavory as that in our halls. Anywhere else, if it’s who they have to kill, as long as the job is done. (198)  
Rogue, as well, stands somewhat apart from everyone, his gaze levelled on Nightshade. She is standing off to the side, her hands clasping the opposite arm, tension coming off her in waves. If anyone else looks that tense, it is most definitely Rogue. He’s hesitating, I can tell. HIs Dragon instincts are building up to a war inside of him. One nudge should get him over here. But what nudge?  
Sting walks over, accompanied by Dobengal. He starts to speak to his partner in Slaying, but the Shadow Dragon Slayer doesn’t move his vision from Nightshade.  
Unwisely, Sting starts to yell at the quiet man, frustrated at his muteness. Finally, the blonde looks where Rogue is, and gets in his face, yelling about how he can’t bond to a murderer and monster like one of them. (199)  
Just as unfortunately, Rogue snaps out of it to find Sting insulting his not yet bonded Mate (200). He growls out a warning, and Minerva, from the cluster of people who aren’t joining and simply wish to go, shouts, “QUIT BEING AN IDIOT, YOU IDIOT!”  
He didn’t regard the warning, and Rogue, his Dragon instincts taking over, lashed out, grabbing Sting, not reacting quickly enough, and throwing him towards the rest of the people, as Dobengal shook his head at his guildmaster’s stupidity.  
Rogue then moved to Nightshade’s side, his Dragon side happier. For some strange reason. He still kept his distance, as unbound Mates tend to do, but the two relaxed some, although I doubt that Nightshade knew why or that this was the original cause of her tension.  
Everyone in the group of ‘non-corrupt,’ as they might say, looks shocked as hell that that just happened. Laxus, Natsu, Gajeel and Wendy, however, share understanding looks. The pull of a Mate is stronger than anything. Other persons that might be able to understand that are Cana and Gildarts, family. It’s almost like that. Unconditional love. It’s irreversible. Sometimes sadly.  
Porlyusica is staying to service the Family here, under my jurisdiction. Neloth might not want to admit it, but he and Porlyusica are bonding. Mostly over their mutual hatred of people.  
“Everyone here is free to leave as they see fit.” I announce, which is true. There is nothing truly stopping any of these people, even my Family, from leaving. Which is at least slightly weird, though.  
Hibiki, however, stands apart, considering his options. Morrigan is perched on the roof, basking in the sunlight, her pale flesh almost reflecting in its glow. He looks at her, and nods once. “I’ll stay.” he whispers, but the Dragon Slayers and I catch it. I smile and nod at him. His magic is fascinating, and this will give me the chance to study it further. Well, if he actually joins the Family. I would like to have him, but honestly, it would be better to ease him in. Morrigan can take him on jobs for now. Show him our ‘noble’ side.  
Everyone, under my watchful eye, dares to do nothing else but clear their throat. I step down the stairs in front of the palace, and walk towards the group, which makes almost everyone take a giant step back. My power is fearful for them.  
But I do not let it deter me. “Eve.” I call into the middle of the crowd.  
The smaller boy moves towards me, and I smile at his courage. “You have earned my respect with how well you stood up to your opponents. Take this.”  
I hand him a token of gratitude, a particularly unique sapphire that will send out a signal to any of my assassins in the area, do not harm him. This Snow Wizard has earned it.  
“I wish you well, wherever your path may take you.”  
He looks astonished, and accepts it, looking at it in awe.  
I fold his hands over it and whisper, leaning in, “May Arkay protect you.”  
Eve. The Snow Wizard from Blue Pegasus. He deserves much more respect in the world.  
I hope he gets it.

 

One more group stands apart from the rest, but it is not because they are considering joining. Jellal is glaring at me, as is Meredy, and their rage is making literally everyone uncomfortable. Erza is dead because of me. I can only imagine their pain.  
Well, I probably can, because I have lost countless Family members, but really, this makes it personal. This one death makes it terribly personal.  
The other guilds disband from this meeting, going back to their normal lives, trying to rebuild, hopefully attract new members under the new government. Mine.  
The breeze ruffles my skirt, which reaches down to my feet in the back but dramatically shortens in the front, ruffled and black as night. A corset interrupts the dress, white and red with black hooks keeping it in place. Rich maroon, just a tint away from the shade of blood, colors the c of my socks and sleeves, which ties together at the front, a ruffle hanging down and partially covering some of my chest. Red straps, from the corset, helps support it by making it a tank top. A spiky crown with pale blue spikes and a black base adorns my head. My wings stood out, fine in the breeze and barely moving. As much as I dislike standing in the sun, this is a necessary evil. Reporters everywhere are getting pictures of me giving personal farewells to the contestants of the Grand Magic Games. Of course, they’ll include a tiny piece about how the great Titania Erza fell during the games, but it will be a side note. Footnote, really.  
The remaining guilds are led away by Lucy and Laxus, the power couple effectively helping their comrades stand up via walking away.  
At the end of the goodbye, the only ones left in the courtyard of the palace are Jellal, Meredy, Nightshade, Rogue, Vidaldus, Kurohebi, Flare, and myself. Flare, Kurohebi, and Vidaldus all take off to the train station after a courtesy goodbye, as I’d be checking up on their progress soon. I do that to all the new recruits.  
Rogue and Nightshade walk into the palace together, and the reporters left with the defeated contestants. It’s Crime Sorcerie and I alone in a rather private area.  
Hmm. Perhaps they would like tea?

 

I smile at the pair, and wave my hand at them, indicating they should join me inside. With one look, they start to trudge in, albeit grudgingly. Even as a former Wizard Saint, Jellal would not wish to pit the two of them against me.  
I bring up the rear, shepherding them into a quiet and beautifully adorned tea room. Once inside, servants scuttle about and start to brew the tea. I suppose I should have called ahead, but, oh well. Might be better this way.  
“What would you like to speak to me about?” I ask them, lounging back in a red patterned chair over a cream background, the entire thing supported by gold arches. It’s quite beautiful, but, not really my style. It is, however, nice to throw people off sometimes.  
“You killed Erza.” Jellal slams his fist into the couch armrest. I frown at him, already thinking about the damage he could have done. Rude.  
“No, I did not. Well, not necessarily. Was I the one who struck her down in battle? No. Morrigan took her down, and she died from her injuries of the battle. So, while I was not the one harming her, you blame me because I orchestrated this entire thing, did I not?” I smile at the end of my sentence, calling them out on their reasoning.  
Jellal’s expression is hidden from me, but his stormy and cold demeanour radiate from him. His teeth start to grind together, and he finally snaps. Dramatically, he stands up, and shouts.  
“YOU ARE THE REAL KILLER OF TITANIA ERZA! YOU ARE A MONSTER! THE WORST DEMON OF TARTARUS HOLDS NO CANDLE TO YOU! ZEREF HIMSELF WOULD QUAKE AT YOUR PRESENCE, YOU EVIL, MANIPULATIVE, BELITTLING TYRANT.”  
I calmly meet his eyes, and in bursts the servants, carrying a tea tray as well as a tier of pastries and snacks. He takes a step back, the help coming in and setting it down, pouring tea for all of us in quaint little cups. They’re black and red, vines branching out in the red, accenting the black perfectly. The inside of the cup, however, is a slight gray, allowing for some sight to see your tea.  
I smile at the wait staff, who bow out once they finish pouring it, ever so elegantly, if I do say so myself. The tea is a black, caffeinated tea, excellent for waking up in the morning if coffee is not present.  
Jellal sits down, frustrated that he couldn’t really yell anymore because of the timing of the interruption. I sip my tea soothingly, and resist the urge, however slight, to smack my lips. While it would undoubtedly creep my guests out, I do not very much care for it nor the rumors that might occur with it.  
Fortunately, I have this situation handled. (201)  
The two across from me fidget in their seats, carefully checking their tea. I raise an eyebrow at them. “What? You think I would sabotage my staff’s fine work?”  
They share a glance, and begrudgingly swallow some. My plan isn’t actually to poison them. Well, not one of them, at least.  
I have been hunting down Crime Sorcerie for ages. Jellal Fernandes has a price on his head and his soul must be sent to Sithis. The entire independent guild has sent a total of twelve of my Brothers and Sisters to jail, something that I do not take kindly to.  
So, I’ll indulge them in conversation this once. But in a few moments, they will pay for their crimes against my Family.  
“What are you planning to do next?” Meredy asks, and I smile at her boldness. She has talent. Talent that I can use.  
“Honestly? I have no idea. Other than improving relations with countries, which, is going to be easy because I am the new head of all of them, I’m not sure what else. I can assure you, however, it will be glorious. And quite helpful for all of us. For example, the Spriggan Twelve of the Alvarez Empire are already pledging their allegiance to me, and promise to help out wherever I wish. Be it controlling the populace or dispatching several people. All that power, at my disposal.”  
“Wasn’t that empire headed by Zeref?” Jellal butts in.  
“I’m not sure, and I don’t really care. It is now under my control. This world is under my control. If you think for a moment that you can challenge me and somehow win, you will be severely disappointed.” I smile sweetly at them.  
“Drink up.” I say cheerfully, and gulp my tea down before licking my lips. “Mmm…. Yummy.”  
The two don’t really know how to react to this, and Jellal sets his cup down as Meredy drains hers.  
“Let’s get down to business.” the blue haired mage states.  
“I thought that was done?” Smirking, I set down my own cup as well. “Would you like more tea, Meredy?”  
She shakes her head no and places her cup next to Jellal’s, the action making the leftover tea move in the cup.  
“We want vengeance for Erza’s death.”  
“That’s stupid.” I mutter, unable and unwilling to stop myself.  
“What?”  
“If you think, for some strange reason, that I’m going to let you take down either one of my best Lieutenants or myself, you have another thing coming.” I smile at the pair, leaning back and settling my back against the chair’s own cloth covered back.  
“We aren’t asking for permission.”  
“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying you,” I point at the two of them with one hand. “are stupid. No one in their right mind would actually do this. You don’t go up to someone, allow them to panic, and possibly let them get away. So you’re either going to die now, or, oh, wait, that’s your only option.”  
I bring out two spells of Paralyze, expecting them to resist, but they do not.  
“Funny thing about Paralysis. You can hear and see everything around you, but you can’t do anything about it.” I state, bringing out the syringe full of sloshing Unholy Vorpal Philter. “This little mixture is my puppet master deal. So much fun.”  
Moving to Meredy, I slide the needle point into her arm, pushing the plunger down. “Have fun, little birdie.”  
If she could, she’d undoubtedly gasp, and faint. She does only one of those, the spell wearing off as real unconsciousness takes her. I open her eyes and watch the darkness take over. She’s mine now.  
Jellal, whose attempting to struggle, judging by the grunts he’s making, is shocked at this. “What-did-you-do?” he eeks out, eyes screwed up in concentration.  
“Easy. She’s mine now. And you will be dead soon enough.” I kick the former Wizard Saint in the face, knocking him out cold with my boot.  
“What a harvest.” I giggle, before sending a message to my guards. In come two loyals, and they drag away both bodies to the dungeons. Jellal, to a cell in the depths, where only I and the loyals have access to, and Meredy to a secure holding cell, like the one with the journalist.  
A fun day. I sit quietly and pour myself another cup of tea. It should not be wasted, this delicacy. A sandwich is nibbled on, and the wait staff come in, clearing it all away as soon as I’ve finished my sandwich and cup. “Excellent work. I am quite pleased with all of you.”  
I do not mention, however, that I am more pleased with my captures.

 

The dungeons underneath the palace are a convenient place to hide prisoners. Nothing else is quite as secure, not to mention as dark and dreary.  
After 6 hours of staring at paperwork, though, it gives my eyes a break that I thank Sithis for. Nothing soothes overworked eyes like darkness. Anyway, it is time for me to break some people.  
Well, one person in particular. I am looking forward to taking out this thorn in my side. Normally, I kill quickly, occasionally not so much, as a contract calls for it. However, when a person has put away several of our best operatives, I find myself in a position where I decide their fate.  
But, no one, in my entire lifetime, has put away as many as Jellal. So, special jurisdiction is required.  
I smile darkly as I step down to his cell, entering and leaving my crown at the doorway to enter. No need for blood to get on it.

 

My Dark Brotherhood robes are on, and I enjoy the familiar feeling of the cloth, still wearable after so long… Nothing like people.  
I unroll a long leather pack, basically a series of pouches that keep together torture tools for my convenience. Picking up my favorite instrument, I flick my own finger along the edge of the blade, drawing it down slowly, relishing the pain. It draws blood, dark red, almost black.  
If it can cut my skin, it can cut anything. There is no need to sharpen it.  
Jellal is awake, having awoken from unconsciousness a few hours ago. The complete darkness surrounds him, except for the bright light shining directly on him, disorienting him.  
With a flick of my wrists, the lights flood the room, darkness no longer present here. Jellal throws his blue haired head back, blinded by the sudden light.  
“Hello again, Jellal.” I speak, my face hidden beneath my raised hood. I’m still examining the precision tool. “Normally I would have someone else do this, but, well, you’ve put away far too many people of mine for me to not take this personally. Say goodbye to your sanity.”  
“I can take whatever you throw at me.” he confidently says, his head coming to a normal angle.  
I chuckle darkly, and turn to face him, but only halfway. He can clearly see the tools, as well as the knife I’m holding. “Of course you will. But I do so enjoy breaking people. Your resistance will just add to it.”  
I walk calmly over to him, his body suspended in air by chains, binding all four of his limbs to the ground or ceiling with magically binding chains. Nothing can break them. (202)  
“We’re going to have so much fun.” I whisper to him, close, as I run the knife down the side of his cheek. “Are you sure you don’t want to start pleading now?”

 

Jellal has, by my count, suffered 47 minor cuts, 12 major ones, one severed artery, numerous bruises, at least 18 broken bones, 3 busted joints, two concussions and 21 lashes from a chain whip. He won’t die- the magic of the room won’t allow it. It keeps the user in pain, but if they get seriously in danger of dying, it alerts a medic. And myself.  
I am impressed he is still breathing, but it’s only been half an hour. I haven’t even started to use my fists yet.  
“Do you want to know what’s next, Jellal?” I ask gently, pulling his hair back, his head coming along with it.  
He gasps in pain, blood trickling down his forehead and face.  
“No? Aww, shucks. It’s a good one.” I chuckle, and firmly grasp his shoulder, wrenching it back and pulling it out of its joint. Dislocations are not pleasant.  
“Let’s see, what else can we break?”  
I let out a small gasp when I realize. I can break his mind.  
I knew this was going to be a good day.  
I shut the lights off, and leave, packing up the equipment. He won’t be going anywhere, even if he could escape. A console before the cell allows me to plug in a lacrima to power it, and show whatever I wish to the prisoner inside the cell. It works auditorily, as well. Let’s set it to Erza Scarlet’s voice, which is quite popular among people, and guilt tripping.  
He’ll be gone before morning.  
I chuckle darkly before leaving the dungeons, changing into my normal robes and placing my crown on my head like normal. Because what is more normal than this?

 

Nightshade’s POV

 

The dark halls that once beamed with light are silent. All around me, my Family glares through the darkness. My mother’s voice echoes in my mind.  
“....Touch him again, and you will perish….”  
“Do not test me…… I will destroy you….”  
“Your safety is irrelevant to me and my plans…..”  
“.... you are a disappointment…..”  
“This was the best you could do?”  
“..... how dare you call yourself my daughter…”  
“Anyone can do better than that.”  
“You are not worthy.”  
“You are unworthy….”  
“YOU ARE UNWORTHY.”  
In my head, laughter surrounds me, until it starts to seep into me, into my soul, as I can’t stop it from penetrating, I can’t stop it from coming in and i can’t stop it from twisting me and hurting me and stabbing me through my heart and mind and soul and the pain oh sithis the pain

 

it only sharpens the betrayal it only makes me feel it more as i try and calm down and try and fail and try to breath through my lungs and through my magic and i can’t control it anymore and this monster inside of me wants to break free and i can’t feel like myself anymore because this

 

this PERSON in my mother’s life is now more precious than me that she would kill me to keep him safe even though he abandoned her he abandoned us

 

but no she lets him back in and lets him into our circle and would die for him and cries for him and laughs with him and it’s too much it’s too much i can’t take it i’ll break i swear it by sithis i swear that i’ll break if i have to give one second of my life to that freak that villain that devil and demon and i know i know i’ll take him down and then i’ll have my mommy again she’ll be mine and i’ll be hers and we are all the other needs and we’ll be fine together as long as we’re together we’ll be fine we’ll be fine forever

 

I smile as I come into the light and walk down the darkened hallway. All will be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 198- On principle, though, I attempt to steer us away from those kinds of people. Nasty business. Had to kill several in our Family. Messy. Anyway, at all costs they are avoided, or killed. It’s not okay to scar people like that for life.  
> 199- Emphasis. Heavy. He spit it out like he couldn’t even imagine such a thing exists.  
> 200- Well, it looks like they might be Mates. However, Dragon Slayers do feel pulls towards people sometimes that are later… not as important as they might appear to be at first.  
> 201- Well, hopefully.  
> 202- I’ve been captured and bound in several of them. They require almost godly strength or magical energy, when forged normally, but with my skill, I doubt a god could break them.


	21. Transformations and Reconnaissance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter’s song is Black Magic by Savant.

Listener’s POV

 

“Listener.” Decimus greets me, and hands me a report about the newest recruits for the Black Hand, as well as world news and progress updates.  
“So, the Spriggan Twelve believe that they can rebel? Let’s get in there. Call in my Lieutenants.”  
“Listener, Noctus and Lucifer have requested to be taken off that list, at least for a while.”  
“Why?” I question my dear Brother.  
“Noctus is pregnant, and the two made a decision they hope you will respect. They don’t want to endanger their child.” Decimus coughs awkwardly.  
I smile and shake my head slightly. “Of course they may have that courtesy. We are a Family, this shouldn’t even be a request. So Morrigan, at the very least, should accompany me, and I wish for Orion, Kurohebi, Nexus would be good, and one other person, I believe.”  
“Who?” Decimus questions, brushing his purple hair out of his eyes.  
“I will take care of it. Would you kindly get everyone else together by, oh, say, six o’clock tomorrow evening. Give them dossiers about the mission and the Spriggan Twelve who are specifically rebelling, but also the others who might or have any inclination to the ones currently rebelling. I will show them who their God is.”  
“Aren’t you concerned about Zeref stopping you?” Fukuro, just joining the conversation, adds. He stands protectively behind Decimus, one hand on his small boyfriend’s shoulder.  
“Oh, I forgot about him. I have to deal with that. I’ll go ask Noctus where Zeref is. She should know.” I stalk off, thinking about my growing to-do list.  
Should be a fun day today, if busy.

 

“Noctus, Sister. How are you feeling?”  
The pigtailed woman smiles at me, Lucifer standing protectively behind her. “I am fine, Listener. What did you wish to discuss?”  
“Can you locate Zeref for me? Several of his Spriggan Shield are rebelling and I need to put a stop to both problems of a martyr and a rebellion of very powerful mages.”  
“Of course. Give me a moment.” Noctus says, and Lucifer guides her to a chair, overprotective now that he knows about a child growing inside of her. Weird things occur in the realm without any interference from divine beings.  
Her eyes roll back into her head as she pulls on her Death Magic, the type very similar to the one that Zeref uses. It should be sufficient to work with, at least to locate his general area. I’ll have Racer sweep the area with Kessie and Ortelloth fine combing it. That should work nicely.  
Noctus pulls back, Shadow Magic replacing the Death as it retreats into its cage inside of her.  
“Zeref is near the town of Magnolia.”  
“Are you sure, Noctus?” I ask, surprised.  
“Yes. Well, somewhat. I don’t think he’s with the Spriggan Twelve, but they and the congregation of people at Magnolia is blinding my Magical Death Touch. I can’t be much of a help tracking him until the clusters disperse further. I am sorry, Listener.” she looks disappointed, and Lucifer tightens his grip on her shoulder.  
“It is perfectly all right. You have given me information that I did not have, and a place that Zeref might be. Oh, and if you don’t want any hard contracts while you are with child, speak with me about it. I’m more than happy to oblige, as long as I get to play with the newest edition of the Family.” I smile warmly.  
Noctus and Lucifer relax a bit, and smile back, chuckling. “It will be the first priority.”  
“Always. Walk in the Shadow of Sithis.”  
“As you should.” they bid goodbye, and the contact lacrima goes black, disconnecting completely.  
I sit back in my chair and huff a little. While it is true that I did not know about the magical congregation of wizards in Magnolia, it is a bit disappointing that Noctus could not locate the heathen of Death Magic, immortal and unaging. How dare he even roam the realm.  
It will be soon fixed.

 

I would love to take down the Spriggan Twelve who are rebelling right away, but first I must initiate Meredy.  
I walk down the steps to the place she is held, next to the reporter, but I don’t need her right now. In my hand is a ceremonial Dragon Priest dagger. The metal, cool in my grasp, is familiar and will do as I ask with no twinge of regret. Some blades hate to shed blood.  
The door to her cell is opened by one of my guards, and he closes it promptly behind me. Meredy is lying in the corner, unconscious. This makes things easier.  
Unholy Vorpal Philter does give me remote control over those injected, but it does not directly tie them to my will. This ritual covers that loophole.  
I slash the middle of my palm, removing my long red glove before doing the deed. I like this pair, no need to ruin them.  
I lay my travelling bag on the floor, and approach the unconscious girl, laying my glove with the bag on the floor. On second thought, I throw my other glove over there with it. They might be blood red, but, again, I like them. Smelling blood all day on them wouldn’t be good for me or my entourage.  
Meredy seems unaware of my presence, although she wouldn’t do much about it if she was. Unholy Vorpal Philter has a tendency to make people bend to my will.  
The last of the last things I want today is for this to be difficult.  
I wake the girl by running the blade up her arm, making a small line in her skin. Her blood slowly oozes out of it at a slow pace, but she’s awake enough to realize something’s going on. She starts, but sees it’s me. The shadow of what was once Meredy obeys my command to sit up, allowing me access to her other side to draw the line there as well.  
“Listener. Remember that name.” I hiss at Meredy, and she repeats it.  
“Listener. Listener. Listener. Listener.” she murmurs under her breath, a mantra. Her eyes are closed, and her movements against me start to cease.  
“You will obey me.”  
“I will obey you. I will obey you. I will obey you. I will obey you.” she says, instead of my title.  
“You will protect me with you life.”  
“I will protect you with my life.” she repeats it three more times, her voice breathy and her eyes, now open, unfocused.  
I pull her up from the bed, walking her to the center of the room, and she stands still as I gather something from my bag. It’s a Star Fang, similar to the one Noctus used in a quill earlier against, Jenny, I believe.  
I start to draw lines along her body, binding Meredy to my will so that she will follow none but mine, doing exactly as I ask in any way that she can achieve it. I imagine if this raid goes successfully, I will have a couple more playthings and will have to enact this ritual several times. Nothing I’m averse to, naturally. I like knowing the strength and integrity of my forces. Good grounds for standing up to people.  
On her body, I have to rip some of her clothes so that I can have access to her skin. In the newly exposed flesh, I write my names into her magic, her life force, her energy, even her very soul. The Star Fang channels the magic needed, and I take care not to override any of Meredy’s needed functions, such as breathing, heart rate, et cetera. Through the link, I can feel when she requires sleep, sustenance, everything her body truly needs.  
By the time I have finished writing the last slash for the Rotmulaag of my first and possibly most dangerous of titles, she is mine. Bound to my will and my title and my name.  
The last thing I write on her, across the collarbone, actually making a mark in her skin, is her new name.  
“You are not Meredy.” I speak, halting before I write it.  
“I am not Meredy. I am not Meredy. I am not Meredy. I am not Meredy.” she whispers.  
“You are now Synapsicodia Mneme, bound to me, and only me. You serve me and my purposes alone.”  
“I am Synapsicodia Mneme and I serve your will and your will alone.” she parrots, four times total.  
“You are iron. You are stone. You are the ultimate defense against everything and everyone.” I whisper in her ear, done writing her new name across her collarbone. It flashes red as she confirms my statement, the normal four times.  
“You. Are. Mine.”  
“I am yours.” she whispers, once only.  
“The ritual is complete.” I state, and the newly christened Synapsicodia Mneme looks up at me expectantly.  
“We are going to go teach some people a lesson. Several, if we have to. Come along.” I speak, stowing away the dagger and the Star Fang in an alcove here. It’s not really in danger of being stolen. Everyone put in here is under the influence of Unholy Vorpal Philter.  
Mneme obediently follows me, and I smirk as I pull on my gloves and sling my bag over my shoulder. “But first, let’s get you an outfit.”

 

Synapsicodia stands tall, her right hand on her hip, hidden by her sleeve. Her pink hair, slowly transforming from the bright pink it was into a magenta, is in twin pigtails high on her head, several of her bangs escaping and falling to the side of her face. Her eyes pop out from her pale face, black outlining them, her lips agreeing with the premise as well.  
A small coat, lace around the edges, binds together at her throat, hiding her name, and the velvet is blood red, marking her as my personal escort. A corset lies underneath her top, barely visible by the straps, and covered fully by her shirt, red predominantly with a black fold in the chest area. Her sleeves extend well beyond her hand, the extra material beautiful. A skirt of red with a black belt, ending at her mid thigh, completes the look with a flourish, and her black boots spell out her danger to everyone she might meet. Of course, she’s with me, so if anyone is the dangerous one, it is most certainly not her.  
“Well, Synapsicodia, are you ready to go?”  
Her thin lips curl into a smile, and I return it, my own outfit not changed from when I entered her cell and performed the ceremony.  
I lead her across the palace, and we are almost to the outside when, I swear, by Sithis, Bickslow drops in out of nowhere.  
“Going somewhere, Listener?” he questions, his babies, out to play again, repeat the phrase fully while stabilizing him before he lands smack on his face on the floor.  
“I am.” I answer, holding back a growl. I have things to do, hope to destroy.  
“May I accompany?”  
“No. This would not be good for you.” I stand my ground. I can’t really think of any actual concrete reason as to why I don’t want him to go, other than the fact that he might not like what I’ll be doing there.  
“Then why are you going?” he asks, stepping onto the ground.  
I sigh internally. This is ridiculous. “Because I need to.”  
“You aren’t being very specific. So, I think you have two choices.” he elaborates after pausing for a few seconds, to make sure I won’t interrupt. “They are that you can take me along with you, to whatever it is you’re doing, or you can not go at all, because if you are going out of this place, you can be damn well sure that I’ll be coming along for the ride.”  
My emotions, buried in me, are fighting to the surface of my self, and I do not like it. “This matter does not concern you in the slightest.”  
“If it happens and it catches your eye, then, yes. The matter concerns me greatly.” he quips back quixotically.  
I grind my teeth together, weighing my options. I can tell him the truth, and he can probably send everyone gathered away with the warning that I’m coming to break up their little gang, or I can not go and let a possible rebellion shake the country.  
“Fine.” I hiss out. “But you will not endanger your life or get in my way.”  
“What if fulfilling the first objective somehow erases the second?” he teases, amused. His tongue is lolling out, and the tell tale signs of the erasure of the guild mark are setting in.  
I sigh, and shoulder my bag. “You will forever ask me that question when I worry for your safety, will you not. Your priority is in keeping yourself safe always. Now let us move. We have a train to catch.”  
Synapsicodia follows behind me at my heels, graceful and cute as a button, while I snap out my sunglasses, black of course, from the bag hanging loosely on a strap around my frame. Sunlight is bothersome. But not nearly so much as a Mate.

 

The train ride is uneventful, thankfully, and there is still daylight as we step off it into the streets of Magnolia. Black ankle boots and black stockings to my mid thigh cover my legs, while a shorter skirt with a red main part and black fringe on the bottom leaves only the barest trace of skin uncovered on my legs. A black belt keeps it together. My top is sleeveless, sheer black in a tank top style covering, holding it up, with red the rest of the way down. Unfortunately, I didn’t remember that this goes with a specific item, and, as a result, some of my navel is exposed as well to the dreaded sun. A black choker collar as well as silver stud earrings, black sunglasses, and a black bag hanging on my shoulder complete the outfit. I check my hair lightly, up in a bun on the back of my head, while bringing down my sunglasses to see clearly in the daylight.  
Synapsicodia hasn’t changed clothes, and walks about, almost running into people, but not quite. She’s taking in the majesty of the town as if she’s a newborn.  
Bickslow is wearing dark jeans with his signature curved at the tip boots, his hair flowing slightly in the wind, and a purple vest, open enough to show off his chest. White covers the edges of the garment, and his visor flashes in the sun, white and pale blue, hooking behind his ears and attached by a chain.  
We’re not very inconspicuous. Well, for the task ahead, anyway.

 

The mages gather at the ruins of the Fairy Tail Guild Hall, shuffling awkwardly in the ashes of the former number one guild in Fiore.  
“We have to do something about Listener.”  
Bickslow perks up, realizing what we’re doing. Eavesdropping isn’t very easy if someone who has problems with the act is with you. Case in point, he opens his mouth to say something. I shake my head at him and smile.  
He clamps his jaw shut and continues walking with us, Synapsicodia looking around like a tourist still. Once we’re out of sight of the guild hall, I sit down at a cafe table, it being almost dinner time. It’s nearby to the still-smoking remains of the guild. Not very good for hearing, but great for espionage. Just tourists.  
Of course, not very inconspicuous tourists.  
I sip an espresso brought to me by a waiter, courtesy of Bickslow knowing when I want caffeine, as I listen.  
My eyes glow slightly under my sunglasses as I enhance my hearing, something difficult for me to do. I am not adept at Sound Magic.  
“What can we possibly do, Laxus? We’ve tried to take her on; we’re fifteen years stronger and it’s gotten us nothing. Nothing but death and destruction.” Sting points out. Ah, pessimism. My old friend.  
“We have to try!”  
“Wendy….” is that? Yes, I believe that’s Lucy speaking. “.... we already know that she’s too powerful. It would take all of our guilds, at full strength, to even hurt her. We don’t have half the power now.”  
Well, not true, as I’m not very good at handling multiple hostile spells, but, essentially, yes. I am too powerful for the guilds, even when they were all whole, to be taken down.  
“...What if we used Lumen Histoire?” Laxus adds.  
“Laxus….. I don’t think that that could even do anything.” his Mate says, defeated in spirit.  
“We have to try.”  
“Laxus is right.” Jenny adds, Eve standing with her. Soon, Kagura, Arana, and Millianna join them. After a few moments, everyone is on their feet.  
“Together, we have to take a stand.”  
Laxus holds out a hand to Lucy, gentleness reverberating through his words. “Hey. We’ll get through it. We’ve handled everything else, haven’t we?”  
I can practically feel the optimism from here. I growl and sever the spell. What can I possibly do to discourage them? Brand them as terrorists? Kill them all? Torture them?  
I doubt that Bickslow would be happy with any of those options.  
I almost snort into my espresso when I realize that, once again, my feelings are derailing my possible movements.  
By Sithis, why must I have a Mate so ethically driven and persevering?

 

I don’t do anything, surprisingly enough, and merely eat my meal as the other two in our trio watch me carefully. Mneme, because we are connected, and Bickslow, because we are, surprise, connected. Slightly different ways, though. Will to soul. Bent to unmoving.  
Little things like that.  
“The ship sails in a hour.” I announce to our small group, my voice barely above a whisper. That... meeting between guilds is… affecting me more than I would like. Mostly because of the tenderness that is evident in glaring amounts within the bond between Lucy and Laxus. How?  
I muse for several moments before breaking off the chain of thought before it could hurt me more. No need to break in front of people. A leader is strong, loyal, and above all, unbreakable.

 

Nightshade’s POV

 

I panic slightly as I reach out and feel for the dagger, usually on my bedside table, and don’t touch it. My breathing elevates until I find it, the smooth, elven blade, forged by my Mother, a comfort, such a comfort, that if I didn’t have it, I think I would die.

 

then again if i did die who would care who would know certainly not him with his words and his ways and his unfamiliarity and his idiocy and all of his problems why is he here why does my mommy allow him to stay why does she not stab him and stab him until he cant move for the blood seeping into his body and seeping out and his magic is desperately trying to keep him alive but it cant it cant it cant because its too weak its too weak

 

hes too weak

 

With a small, lyrical laugh, I guide the blade across my flesh, grazing my skin, not nearly enough to break it. I feel the temptation eating at me to drive it, deep, deep, deep, into my flesh, and let it stay there until I can move it into the other arm. I would be bleeding and bleeding and there would be oh so much blood.

 

hes on his knees bowing before me and i raise the knife and drive it down and out spurts the blood and oh sithis its everywhere itll never come out of the carpet at this rate but mommy laughs and hugs me and were both dripping in blood, in his blood, and its fine and were together and she rocks me to sleep with her lullaby and i sigh and snuggle in and were a happy family again since 

 

hes gone

 

its just us and its just us and were fine as they seal us away in our tomb and were fine because who needs to live when you have family and wed have that so itd be fine and id be fine in mommys arms and thered be no need to live forever if we were together in death and the monster is dead

 

i will make him fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 203- Don’t panic. It’s just a blood ritual. No sacrifices.
> 
>  
> 
> 204- The foremost testing stages actually went horribly, horribly wrong. Eventually, I found a balance between my will and theirs, but the first few test subjects….. they either had too much willpower of their own, or they had too little. Did you know that you need willpower to breath?
> 
>  
> 
> 205- Everything else, besides one, was written on her soul, mind, magic, or general spirit. The other that wasn’t was Dovahkiin, carved into her back. It’s still bleeding.
> 
>  
> 
> 206- I discourage people, strongly, from wearing black and red until they have earned that right. Any other color combination is acceptable. Just not those two.
> 
>  
> 
> 207- I like seeing that. But, really, a guild mark stamp on any part of the body that isn’t a tongue is liable to last for a long time, even a couple of years. But one on a tongue? Oh yeah. Renew that constantly. 3-6 months.
> 
>  
> 
> 208- Hopefully he gets the message here. If you value not being in pain, you will shut up. I can’t really kill him, but who is to say what I won’t do elsewise?
> 
>  
> 
> 209- I don’t know how, but….. it is.


	22. Fighting In and Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Million Reasons by Lady Gaga.

Listener’s POV

 

The ship is moving out of Magnolia’s harbor with us safely aboard. Morrigan, Nexus, and the others all checked in via lacrima so I could start to plan out our tactics. Really, it’s going to be something like me wandering in there and luring them out, while everyone waits. Once there, they’ll attack. Obviously. (210)  
Rocking at sea has always made me nervous. Thankfully, I don’t seem to be afflicted by the newer Dragon Slayer weakness of motion sickness. With how often and how much I travel, it would have murdered my feet before I got out of week one as an adventurer. New inventions of speedy travel are the best things for my time table.  
I stare at the letter before me, the pages well worn by now, but it’s something that I whisk away into my bag when I hear footsteps.  
“So, are you feeling as bad as Laxus does on these trips?” Bickslow asks, his tongue lolling out casually, him leaning against a wall.  
“No. I do not get motion sick in any way, shape, or form. I would have thought that you had realized that by now.” I stated, tucking the paper securely away. I’ve copied it so many times, for fear of the letters being faded to an unreadable state by age, but it’s never happened. The words are engraved in my mind.  
“What are we going to do next?”  
“We’re going to take down the rebelling members of the Spriggan Twelve.” I answer immediately, standing and pushing my chair in, so as not to trip anyone. The sailors on this ship are naval soldiers of Fiore, who commandeered the vessel with compensation for a rental time from the original owners and crew. They are enjoying a nice day or two off.  
I walk quietly to the railing, staring out at the sea. It’s always nice to know that there is, in fact, something out there, like me. Unending.  
It brings my comfort.  
“What do you mean the Spriggan Twelve? We can’t possibly take them down!” Bickslow exclaims, recovering from his shock.  
“Of course we can. I have Morrigan, Nexus and a handful of others en route to help, as well as myself and Mneme over there.”  
“I don’t get to help?”  
“I do not wish to endanger your life.” I answer, my head sinking down until I am staring at the floor of the ship instead of the blue waves.  
“I can take care of myself.” he grunts, and I heave a sigh.  
“You do not seem to understand. If you were to die, the world itself would be doomed. Do you wish to know why? It is because I am vulnerable through you. You are my weakness.” I state, looking back out at the sea.  
“I am no weakling.” he hisses, and I close my eyes.  
“You are not. But, I seek to protect you rather than doom the world. You might be fine, you might die.”  
“So you don’t trust me.”  
“I don’t fully trust anyone.” I quip back automatically. I haven’t trusted anyone since I was a girl.  
He doesn’t reply, and instead, moments later, I hear a door slam and look up, finding nothing there.  
Wanting to protect someone is apparently a flaw.  
By Sithis. I am a mess.

 

The rest of the voyage gets us to the Alvarez Empire in good time, and, instead of wearing the classic red and black, I don something more like what a priestess would wear. (211)  
A top of white stretches down from my neck in ruffles, greeting the pink layer covering my chest and the end of it, a loose fabric of pink with a white rim on the bottom, circling it. A fake tattoo is visible on my partially exposed stomach, as an ornamental belt clips into place, the pure metal cold to the touch. Said metal is blue on the lower semi-connecting piece, but white on the other, the two clipping together in the back. They lead the eye to the white pants, cutouts in the fabric outlined by pink. This is overlaid by light blue and slightly darker blue ornaments on my legs, ending on my knees and covering my thighs. A skirt, showing off the pants and decorations, opens at the front and closes at the back, a pale pink on the inside and snowy white outside. My feet are strapped into ridiculously tall platforms, making me taller than even Bickslow, if I saw him, but are white on the bottom and a more visible pink on the straps.  
White sleeves, from just above the middle of my upper arm, extend to my fingertips, with blue and white metal pieces decorating my wrists. Bells on ruby red strings accompany those, also attached there, and in my left hand I carry a sprig of blue flowers, my right has nothing, prepared for spell casting. Metalwork is in place on top of my shirt, the pale blue and white standing out against the mainly pink background it stood on. A necklace of pale blue and slightly darker blue hangs loosely around my neck, on display over the ruffles of the shirt. On my back, strapped, is a staff with a symbol for healing, in a ruby pink, at the top. My hair is in twin buns on either side of my head, as well as pulled back and braided, going to nearly my waist with it flipped so I can see it. Still more of my golden hair tumbles down my back. (212)  
A crown of blue and white keeps the hair out of my face, and a white kitten, secure on my shoulder, is the last thing that is needed to complete the look.  
I step out of my room onboard the ship, and feel the stares of the crew members, hurriedly looking away. The Family is most certainly not used to seeing me dress like this.  
I almost shudder, but that would upset the kitten. It’s too adorable to do so.  
Mneme is waiting to help me disembark, her outfit changed as well. Nothing can associate us with the Dark Brotherhood while we are here, trying to get past their defenses.  
I mean, we could just barge in, but that would take a lot more magical power, inducing burnout. And I do not like wasting such a resource as magic, when it can be used so much more effectively.  
Synapsicodia is wearing an equally innocent looking outfit, her hair tied away from her neck and hanging down in front of her loose white shirt, the sleeves reaching to the palms of her hands. Paired with pale blue jeans, pink shoes with slightly less of a height than mine, a matching scarf, bag, and headband, she looks the vision of an apprentice Priestess. A silver chain hangs around her neck, her earring studs and her makeup acceptable, black, but not suspicious enough to warrant an investigation.  
We are all set to infiltrate a meeting of the Spriggan Twelve. Hopefully, it goes well.  
If not, well…. That’ll be interesting, if painful.

 

The two of us almost seem to float over the walkways as we cross the streets and bridges leading to the headquarters. Once almost there, a guard stops us and, upon surveying my magical signature and staff, find they are legitimate, and let us in, believing my story about the Spriggan Twelve needing a Priestess to settle a dispute.  
On the way, I instruct Mneme on how to walk, taking small quick steps, gliding almost, never striding. A priestess must be a cloud, a spurt of wind, guided along by nothing but the will of the Gods. I don’t really believe this, but the culture surrounding priestesses is fascinating, and the instructions I am giving to Mneme make it seem more real.  
At the gates, I present my staff again, noticing that these shoes make me much taller than the guards, more than normal. We proceed because the guards are lazy and just assume we’re fine inside a highly secure government building, and don’t bother to search us.  
“The meeting room is on the next floor up.” one guard tells me, and I nod my head, some ornaments clicking together. Priestesses never smile.  
Mneme follows me into the building at a close distance, our bond telling her to keep close, in case something happens or anything else, really. I let a smirk alight on my face for a brief moment before it vanishes, seriousness returning.  
Time to get to work.

 

The council is convening, and looks up when I enter, Mneme following behind by a few steps.  
“Ah, the Priestess. This should solve our little dispute.” Ajeel states, leaning back in his chair.  
Using my right hand, I power up a spell, and close my eyes, concentrating on it. Due to their inexperience in the magic of such light and delicate work, (213) they don’t realize I’m summoning a sigil that will blow apart the council room and, hopefully, send them into the waiting spells of my Siblings.  
I walk swiftly, not a single bell in my chains jingling, and press my hand into the center of the chamber, stepping onto and over the table. Just one of them notices that I’m not doing it correctly; it should be my palm, not the back of my hand.  
“Wait a second….” that person starts, but by that time, it’s too late.  
The spell has taken hold, and everyone except Mneme and I is blown back by the effects, although it did jingle the bells and cause my outfit to disappear. (214)  
“This shall be a fun battle, Mneme. Let us get to it, is that what I should say here?”

 

The sunlight is streaming down from the sky, and I wince in pain slightly at the burning sensation. You never really get used to it, the weakening properties of it.  
Gathered members of the Spriggan Twelve are scattered around the courtyard, several groaning, but all of them getting up. I sigh. One would figure that an explosion of that magical proportion would at least do some lasting damage. But no.  
I slide down on a collapsed support structure, and survey the tower that I just exploded. It’s still standing, but I doubt for long. I don’t particularly care for the people inside, as they’re not as important as these powerhouses, but I suppose if they got out I wouldn’t mind.  
Doesn’t mean I’m going to warn them, though. Common sense and all.  
The first one to attack me is Brandish, shrinking the support I’m standing on. I glance down, and my wings immediately burst out of my back, keeping me afloat. She glares and growls deep in her throat.  
“What are you going to do, Country Destroyer?” I taunt, and it occurs to me that she isn’t the only one standing up.  
However, Mneme behind me has nudged my attention through our link to the surrounding walls of the courtyard. Standing on it, spaced evenly, are Morrigan, Nexus, Orion, and Kurohebi.  
Morrigan has her sword in her right hand, and a spell waiting to be released in her left. Orion has his bow drawn sideways, in a crouch, with six arrows, and I commend his abilities (215). Kurohebi is powering up his Mimic abilities, not using any Sand Magic due to the presence of the Desert King, but I’m sure by the end of this battle he could claim that title if he so wished. Nexus is starting to pluck the soul strings of the dead, his magic pulling the skeletons and wraiths up and binding them to his will.  
“You cannot defeat the Spriggans on your own!” calls out Ajeel, standing and clearing himself of rubble.  
“Do you think I am so stupid as to come and fight you on my own?” I respond, one eyebrow raised slightly.  
The Desert King looks around with widened eyes, and spies the figures standing on the battlements.  
“Only six of you? Like we’ll lose.”  
“Oh, yes you will. I am glad that you are acknowledging this fact.” I smirk, and drop down to a piece of rubble. I don’t like being on my wings in battle; I am unused to it.  
The smirk on Ajeel’s face fades as he narrows his eyes at me, sending a Sand Storm straight at me. Kurohebi, Sithis bless him, redirects the magic and attracts it to himself, absorbing the attack and smiling devilishly.  
Ajeel whips around and glares, angry at his attack failing. Kurohebi’s lanky body and relaxed stance, adding in his smug little smirk and self assuredness oozing out of his body, and one can only imagine exactly how long it takes for Ajeel to attack him.  
A pointless endeavor, as it will just be absorbed by Kurohebi, his Mimicry Magic and experience in mimicking Sand Magic making any and all of Ajeel’s sand-based attacks useless and a waste of time and effort, not to mention magical energy. Whereas Kurohebi has everything else he can use at his disposal.  
Oh, it takes about two seconds for them to start the fight.  
Everyone else just falls into line with that.  
Morrigan is fighting Brandish, the latter’s Mass Manipulation magic having no effect on her opponent’s ability to fight or stand her metaphorical ground. In contrast, Morrigan’s wind based attacks are doing at least some damage to the Spriggan Twelve Member, but already, one can tell it will take some time before any type of victor is declared for any of these battles.  
That includes me, as well. Synapsicodia just now blocked an attack from the Winter General, or Invel, as he’s known. Using her magic, which I didn’t really expect her to remember, she prompts a Sensory Link between the two of them, and starts to hurt herself to get him to give in. I’m not entirely sure how she’s doing this. (216)  
With Orion still aiming his shots, he refocuses them onto one target, Dimaria Yesta. The Valkyrie. Two impact her, while she blocks one and sends another flying, but the last one succeeds in knocking her on her feet.  
Perhaps I should have taken another back up…. Orion does not know too much in the way of magic. But, that is not something I can fix at the moment.  
Nexus pulls the strings and makes the dead walk, at the same instance that Wahl Icht summons his robots. This should make for an interesting fight.  
This leaves the last two opponents for myself. Should be fun.

 

August and God Serena attack with the full force of their powers, attempting to hit me and make me stay down.  
“You will bow to the glory of Spriggan!” Serena shrieks, and I jump backwards as he strikes the ground.  
“I doubt I will. No one is as glorious as myself or my Dread Lord, and most certainly not Zeref, a fake god.” I taunt, weaving my way backwards while trying not to get distracted by the raging battles surrounding me. Mass is shrinking and expanding as Brandish attempts to hit Morrigan, the dead and robots are everywhere, tearing each other to pieces, Orion is firing shot after shot with his rifles attempting to hit Dimaria, and I swear that sand is getting in everybody’s eyes.  
A good battle all around.  
My own opponents seem intent on hurting me, as I slip out of the way of an elemental attack on the part of August, and avoid another few from Serena.  
“You two can’t seem to aim at all, can you?” I taunt the pair, and Serena roars in anger as August withdraws, seemingly to consider me and my power levels.  
Serena launches at least twenty simultaneous attacks at me, most of which I avoid, but am hit by at least three, the burn of the magic seeping through my armor and leeching me of some of my strength.  
I land heavily on the ground, and open my eyes to find, not the battleground I was just on, but, in it’s stead, a huge amount of skulls, lining a pathway of red clay, oozing blood when pressure is applied, revealing an understructure of leg bones.  
In the distance, I hear fighting, and I turn, almost as if I’m in ice, and see Bickslow and Nightshade clashing, my Mate being beaten into the ground with spells and ethereal power flowing from Nightshade’s being.  
My mouth opens involuntary as the last of Bickslow’s strength dwindles and Nightshade’s spell breaks through, sending his corpse spiralling through the air and landing at my feet, his eyes still open and the last of his life bleeding out of him. Red from the ground seeps onto his clothing, staining it, and I can do nothing but watch, wide eyed, as the bones underneath the road drag him under to join their ranks, his eyes not losing their question, imbedded in them.  
It’s the immortal question of, ‘Why weren’t you there?’  
‘Why didn’t you save me?’  
‘Why didn’t you teach me enough?’  
I stare at the spot on the ground for a moment as the last of him vanishes under the red clay, blood drying a dark red, staining the earth where he fell.  
Nightshade stands in the background, smiling insanely, while being drenched in blood from a spraying river. From there, she’s quickly submerged in blood, and it flows down the hill, towards me, probably because I’m the cause of it.  
I close my eyes, then open them again at my thought.  
I’m the cause.  
I am the cause.  
It’s not real.  
I turn and feel something impact my cheek, probably a fist of God Serena. More pummels follow, until I’m kicked, I assume, back, impacting the rubble of the tower in actuality, but in my sight it’s a pile of corpses, several clawing at me to save them. Among them are Decimus and Ortelloth, the pair’s eyes staring up at the sky, a red that stains your soul, that doesn’t wash out.  
I shake my head and pull up, in my left hand, a Detect Life spell (217). In a hallucination, you cannot tell space regularly. My other hand draws Dawnbreaker, the first sword that I could think of built for one armed combat.  
My magic, while depleted in sunlight, will be sufficient to power the spell for as long as I need to. Hopefully.  
I start it, and find the an enemy is right next to me, probably taunting me in this incapacitated state. Impulsively, I take a slice at him, and it impacts, the figure staggering back a bit, as the blade ignites them on fire.  
I slice again, and the lunge at the red magically outlined figure, missing. They move to the side of me and continue their taunt, or they’re powering up a spell. Either way, I don’t care. I just want this nightmare to end.  
Using that mentality, I keep up the spell, draining my magicka constantly, and attacking with Dawnbreaker in my right hand. In the middle of one sweep, I am lifted off my feet and slammed into another pile of corpses, this time with Kessie and Morrigan on it. I close my eyes, as if I’m defeated, and wait for the person to come closer, their red aura shining through the hallucination.  
Finally, said person kneels in front of me, and taunts me some more, though I don’t care at this point. This has to end.  
I draw up my sword and launch it into the stomach of the person, or wherever, I just know I hit them. Still gripping it, I pull it up, slicing through their abdomen greedily. The blood in my vision seems to come from a river, but I know better.  
Sadly, when I look up at the person’s face, it’s Nightshade, her eyes filled with tears and pain, as her mouth forms a questioning ‘why?’  
I can mourn later, although this is a hallucination. Irregardless, I tear the sword out of their chest cavity, or what’s left of it, and, using Detect Life to locate their head, I swing the sword through the air and chop off their head. All while reminding myself that I am not, in fact, murdering my daughter.  
Unfortunately the hallucination doesn’t dissolve. It ramps itself up, voices filtering through to my head, accusing me of being unfaithful and hurting the Family, murdering the Dark Brotherhood.  
I crumple to the floor at the overwhelming sensations, blood flowing onto my hands and dripping there, staining everything I touch. I stumble upright, then backwards, as the spell hits me harder, with more and more scenes coming at me, the murders of my Lieutenants, the cold ways of those in death scorning them for listening to me, turning even the Dread Father against me.  
Most horrifically of all, I see the battlefield on which I see myself slaughtering the last of the Family. At the end, my hallucinated self turns to watch me, and smiles, perfectly happy with her little world and her destruction and stupidity.  
I cast the spell again, and launch my sword towards the figure on the battlements in red.  
It strikes true, the hallucination dissolving around me as August falls from the walls, hitting the ground with an unceremonious thud, and groaning in pain. Taking deep breaths, I survey the battles occurring here still.  
Brandish, still fighting Morrigan, looks worse for the wear, but both of them are panting and their magic appears to be lower than before. Obviously. Wahl Icht’s robots are being attacked mercilessly by Nexus’ dead, and they are certainly overwhelming the member of the Twelve. His hands disappear underneath a sea of wraiths, and in a moment, the wraiths dissipate, Nexus dropping to one knee, as Wahl Icht falls backwards, his body twitching as he’s seen the light of death.  
Dimaria Yesta is standing heroically over the body of Orion, preparing to strike a killing blow and end him. His bow is shattered, next to him, ready to die with it’s master. I send a Lightning Bolt towards the Valkyrie, the impact sending her into the wall.  
“Do not touch my Family.” I drawl out, an aura radiating from me of darkness, death, and an unmistakable air of protectiveness.  
Dimaria Yesta smiles, and attacks from across the arena. “I wanted a challenge! How did you know?”  
I set up a Ward Wall, the woman impacting it and breaking through in about a second, but it gives me some time to think, preparing a spell to combat her abilities.  
“Deal with these two.” I speak, and upon my command, two Dremora Lords burst out of Oblivion, with heavy two handed weapons, screaming at her in Old Tamrielic, “YOU’LL MEET YOUR END, MORTAL!”  
I step back and watch my handiwork as the two start to work on her, staggering the Twelve Member with power attacks and simultaneously setting her on fire. Such fun that is enchantments.  
Kurohebi is winning the fight against Ajeel, and it looks like the killing blow is about to be dealt, as Ajeel transforms himself into sand, stirring up a sandstorm for everyone to perish under. Kurohebi smiles, and merely puts up his hand, casting a Magic Drain spell, and pulling in the sand of Ajeel.  
The Desert King realizes his mistake too late, as the sand swirls in to the Mimicry Mage. Ajeel’s sand body is sucked into the vortex, his magic becoming the only part of him that should ever affect something in this world again. Kurohebi sighs, not unhappily, at the increase in power, and looks around for a new combatant.  
Speaking of, Dimaria has vanquished her two foes, and the good news is, she’s tired, while the bad news is, I was distracted, so I am not prepared for a one on one fight here. Naturally, I take the easy way out and send her flying across the courtyard with a well placed “FUS RO DAH!”  
She slams into the wall with a satisfying crack as her head whips back into said hard surface. I wince on her behalf. Even I know that that is not a pleasant experience.  
I equip a Dragon Priest dagger, and approach the Valkyrie.  
“You are a worthy opponent. You may rest now.” I whisper in her ear, and slam the dagger into her heart, twisting it just right so that in a few moments she will be gone completely from this world.  
I straighten from my crouch to her level, and survey the field of battle.  
The last person battling anyone visibly is Morrigan, and Brandish is looking more and more tired by the second. I feel a sense of pride burst through my chest as I watch the two dance, and then move along, checking up on Orion. He’s breathing, thank Sithis, and alive, with minimal damage. I heave a sigh of relief. Nothing could fill me with more joy at this time.  
Except, perhaps, the gift that Synapsicodia has for me.  
She approaches me with Invel in tow, the Winter General and her deep in discussion.  
“Listener.” she breathes, eyes alight with reverence. “I have some very good news.”  
“What is it, Mneme?” I ask, looking at the woman curiously.  
“Invel has agreed to adhere to the ideals of the Dark Brotherhood! He says that he has admired us and our organization from afar for quite some time.”  
He blushes slightly, not sure why, but he nods. “You are strictly in order with everything, making you the ideal organization with the hierarchy and incentives to match.”  
“You wish to join the Black Hand?” I arch an eyebrow, skeptical.  
“Yes.” he flushes furiously, but his hopeful look is too cute.  
“I will admit, you in the ranks of the Dark Brotherhood would help both our image and our power…. But you will have to start from the bottom, and take whatever job we give you. I assume you don’t have a lot of morals against killing for profit, or if that person has not broken any laws?”  
“I do not. Working with the Spriggan Twelve is….. not exactly the easiest thing in the world for someone who enjoys structure and rigid rules.” he grimaces.  
“I can imagine. But, before I let you in, Invel, because I would like you to join our ranks, you must tell me something.” I consider, thinking about all of my goals. I should take care of this one while I still have the chance.  
“Anything.” his eyes light up, hopeful.  
“Tell me where Spriggan is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 210- I'm really bad at tactics concerning not just me. So I could be wrong.  
> 211- Do not, however, dismiss the red and black. They are the colors of the Black Hand, and my personal favorites. They would have disrupted the operation the moment we set foot on the ground.  
> 212- This is in character for a priestess. They never cut their hair. Ever.  
> 213- Priestesses are like Mephala; they make delicate works of magic, almost art, with threads of magic. Takes years to learn, and longer to perfect, but, done right, it can protect an entire continent from virtually anything.  
> 214- Not because it burned or anything; the trigger for my outfit was the bells. Now I'm in my regular assassin's clothing.  
> 215- I certainly can't do that.  
> 216- Not because of me questioning her magical prowess or skill; I thought you had to touch a person physically. I guess not. But doesn't it require a bond?  
> 217- I would use the Shout to keep both hands free to attack, but it does not tell friend from foe.


	23. A Series of Misfortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Wonda by Caravan Palace.

The others who fought by my side are cleaning up the messes, while Synapsicodia is taking a walk with Invel, teaching him our beliefs and rules. Morrigan is taking care of Orion at a hospital, as are the rest of the Family here today.  
I heave a sigh of relief at being alone, and sit on the ground, my back against the wall outlining the courtyard. The prospect of never having to get up again is…. beautiful.  
From my eyes fall tears, barely held in from the hallucination. Weakness is not an option for me. I close my eyes and clutch my head with my hands, my knees apart with my feet flat on the ground. Every scene I relive as I blink, so I might as well watch it all….  
My torture is interrupted by the arrival of someone that I didn’t expect to see. His boots reveal his presence with the noise he makes, walking on the rubble from the tower. I open my eyes to look at him, and watch as he stops in the center of the dead courtyard, huffing and looking up at the stars, darkness falling after the clean up and battle.  
He catches my movement, stalling for a moment before regarding me in my position, away from the spotlight and the center of the room, away from what has always been mine though I have never wanted it.  
“What’s up, buttercup?”  
I send him a strange look, too tired to really question him. My magic is drained, as am I, emotionally and physically. The only part of me not defeated is my health, perfectly fine, no blood oozing out of my body. So that’s good.  
“How did the battle go? You guys win?” he asks, tongue lolling out. Old habits die hard.  
“Obviously.” I murmur, my head falling back to rest against the wall I’m sitting against. My eyelids follow suit, shielding my eyes from looking out at the world.  
He studies me for a moment, I believe, before he walks over and slides down the wall, joining me sitting on the ground.  
“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, what’s your pain level now?”  
“Physical or mental?” I question, not opening my eyes.  
“Both.”  
“Zero and ten.” I reply, sighing, rubbing my forehead with my closed fist, bringing my head forward from its resting position against the wall.  
“Why?”  
“August…. he knew much about the ways of magic. Including how to break down a person’s mind and barriers. He… he made a hallucination specific to me.”  
“You’re a toughie. I refuse to believe that it touched you.” Bickslow jokes.  
I open my eyes and turn to him, all barriers down. His eyes meet mine through his visor, and his expression changes to shock.  
“He did, though.” my voice breaks, and I turn away, setting my chin on my knee, huffing a sigh. “It was horrible… Rivers of blood, a path lined with skulls, the ground swallowing up your corpse, you dying by Nightshade’s hands, Family members piled high, every one of them dead by my hands, this… this storm, brewed selectively, bred, by me. All of it because I…. because I allowed it to happen. Because I’m alive.”  
My hands grip my shins, pulling them in closer to my torso, my entire body crumpling inward into a ball because I felt safer this way, not as safe as if I was surrounded by the Greybeards or by Paarthurnax, Odahviing, or Durnehviir, but, still, safer.  
However, Bickslow slinks his arm around my shoulder and links his other arm around as well, hugging me to his self. “It wasn’t real. You’re safe now, you won against Serena and August, not to mention Dimaria, and saved Orion’s life.”  
“The point is that I could cause it all…. I could cause it. I might have already.” I breath deeply, trying to calm myself. “But I have to go on.”  
“You don’t have to be so strong.” I hear Bickslow mumble, and it relaxes me.  
That’s what happened, okay? Nothing about how much more calming it was to sit in his arms, knowing that if anyone dared to break this moment they would probably die, and just be in the other’s presence.  
No comments shall be made about how warm he is. Even if I felt better than I had in weeks…..  
I repeat. Nothing. Is. Happening.  
We stay like this for five minutes, maybe, before both of us are on the verge of falling asleep, and only a bird squawking alerts us to the world again. Thank Sithis.  
I walk away with a light blush on my face and a target in my mind.  
Say your goodbyes to the world, Zeref.

“So, where are we going now, Listener?” Bickslow asks, surveying the landscape of the recent battlefield. Invel stands slightly apart from the two of us, next to Synapsicodia. He looks up at the crumbling tower, everyone evacuated, thanks to Bickslow’s efforts, and considers it.  
“It is clear to me now that Zeref was -is- a false god. He is in the northern most region of this land mass, saying something about wanting to find a weakness for you.” the Winter General states, his eyes not leaving the smoldering ruins.  
“He is in Keizaal?” I question, wanting to be sure before going on a wild goose hunt.  
“I believe he is, yes. I suggest you pursue, but hurry. Intelligence from spies in Fiore have spoken of movements of mages towards us; probably due to your presence here.”  
“Thank you, Invel. Mneme, would you kindly escort our Brother to the nearest Sanctuary and help him understand our way of life.” I request, and Mneme touches her collarbone briefly with her right hand, taking it away after a second. It’s enough to feel the small spark of feeling, her will bowing to mine absolutely. (218)  
The pair walk away, silent and deadly, to the nearest Sanctuary. I believe there is one in Haven, one of the only cities that kept the old Tamrielic name it had. Currently, we are in the old city of Greenheart, where the Spriggan Twelve were posted most of the time, mainly in case of an attack by, or to, Fiore. They aren’t exactly the calmest of neighbors.  
A trip to Keizaal would take quite a while by walking, less by horse, but the least if we flew without stopping. Unfortunately, I doubt that some people would like not stopping for breaks, food, sleep, et cetera. Mortals and their need to do things.  
It would be better to go by myself.  
I look to the north, and my wings come to life, the urgency of this taking priority over the exhaustion I’m feeling, or anything I will encounter in a little while. Up in the clouds, you don’t think there are dangers. I learned a great lesson my first time flying, not on the back of a dragon.  
Bickslow stands at the top of the wall, looking out on the town. A perfect time for me to disappear.  
I spread my wings and take off, almost effortlessly soaring up to cloud levels. With the wind on my back, speeding me along, I should be there in no time at all.

The journey is exhausting, and I am only two thirds the way there. Seventeen different calls have been tried on my Communications Lacrima, all leaving a message. I can’t afford to be distracted, or hover for a single moment. I press on, the cold wind above the clouds waking me up and focussing my mind on my goal once more.  
Zeref…… you must by cleansed.  
By the Hand of Sithis.  
By a Unliving Goddess.  
By the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.  
You will be destroyed.

The winds of my childhood home blow fiercely, the only way to make myself stay awake. I land, rather ungracefully, on the mountain’s top, Paarthurnax already watching me curiously.  
“What is it, Dovahkiin?” he asks, his voice a comforting rumble to me.  
“I am searching for a false god by the name of Zeref. He uses Death Magic; can you feel his presence?” I question, my exhaustion seeping into my voice. I am too tired to strain my mental capacities to be polite, even to the second born of Akatosh.  
“Ah, yes. He is outside of the Hofkahsejun.” Odahviing lands and speaks. “Where you trapped me in the Old Age.”  
I give a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Odahviing, Paarthurnax. Would you mind trying to keep anyone away? His magic is uncontrollable at times.”  
“As is yours. You have no need to worry, Qahnaarin. The realm surrounding that Raan is dead for miles around.” Durnehviir lands as well, his gaze settling in the distance towards it.  
“Are you sure this is wise, Dovahkiin?” Paarthurnax questions, concerned. “He may not have the power of the Thu’um, but he is a dangerous opponent.”  
“He needs to die, and I must do that. Mortals cannot survive his wrath.” I sigh, and spread my wings once more. “Wish me luck.”

The field that Odahviing and Durnehviir described is the decimated wasteland of the plains of Whiterun. Nothing is moving, no water is around, the roads, worn into the ground, completely obliterated by Zeref’s power.  
I land, somewhat unsteadily, on the outskirts of the dead area. The weariness I feel vanishes as I look around, marvelling at the contrast between the black, bleak landscape before me, where my opponent lies, and the bright, lively world around. No corpses, animal or otherwise, are on the ground here. The only thing one can see is the dead landscape here.  
In the middle of it all is Zeref. The breeze, unkillable, softly stirs his black hair and his clothing. Probably the only friends he’s had in all these years have been inanimate objects or things. I halt my approach at that thought, just for a second, but continue. He must be killed.  
“You know, Listener, I want to say that we’re not so different. But we are.” He speaks, opening his eyes and turning to face me. I’m about fifty feet away from him, but I can hear him clearly.  
“How so?”  
“You are a cold blooded murderer, while I try not to sully my soul with such stains. On you, though, they reek to high heaven.” he states, his expression cool.  
“I do not kill without reason.”  
“You’re an assassin. You kill for gold.”  
“I kill to serve the Will of Sithis, as well as in self defense, or pre-emptive self defense. Have you not seen the possible wars I have stopped before they’ve begun? With the entire continent now united under one rule, my own, no more frivolous wars here. The world will fear us and love us as we will slowly, one by one, conquer the world and show it the proper way of life.”  
“You mean under a totalitarian dictatorship.”  
“No. I mean the proper way will be democracy, having a say in the government, rights for all, equality. Are those bad things, Zeref? If they are, why did some of them exist in your own empire, even if you were under a different name?” I question, moving forward towards my opponent.  
“You would enslave the world.” he shakes where he stands, normally calm and sturdy as a mountain.  
“We’re both here to stop the other, aren’t we?” I sigh, looking up at the sky. “It is a lovely day to die.”  
Zeref looks as well, appreciating the natural beauty of the world for the last time.  
When he returns his gaze to me, he is shocked. “You haven’t struck me?”  
“This is a fight to the death. It should be honorable in some form of the word.” I state, and only then draw my weapon out, Dawnbreaker practically singing with joy. Spellbreaker rests on my other arm, and a crossbow is ready at my side.  
Zeref sighs, and casts Death Predation, the effect spiralling out around him.  
I survey him for a second more, then sigh, pulling out a spell of my own, summoning a Wrathman and a Mistman, both undead. They’re from the Soul Cairn, thus impervious to Zeref’s magic.  
His eyes widen as the pair are unaffected by his energy output, and I consider him. How to kill him?  
I move forward steadily, when Zeref manages to down one of the skeletons, I summon another. They rush into battle, unfeeling and unrelenting. He has cuts and scratches all over, and finally, he shoves them away with his magic at last, saying, “Enough. Let us finish this now!”  
“Agreed.” I speak, and stab him with Dawnbreaker. The flames leap onto him, burning his undead skin thoroughly. I rip the sword upwards, through his chest cavity, and withdraw it, only to spin around and sever his head from his body.  
The resulting explosion of magical power sends me flying into the ground, easily two hundred feet away.  
I groan, trying to get up and get back to reality, but cannot. My head hits the ground as my consciousness leaves me.

I’m awakened by the sound of a spell of enormous power.  
I fully regain my consciousness by the time it hits me, which forces me back even further. I attempt to stand, pushing against the impressive force of the spell.  
A final part of the spell forces me to my knees, my arms the only thing holding back the spell from myself. Suddenly, they’re forced to my sides, dropping any block I might have held from the magic.  
It strikes me, but not just me, my soul, and a scream that’s loud enough to shake the Earth tears from my lips, as the pain from the spell torments me mercilessly. The last effect of the spell, though, happens as the magic fades.  
The fragment of Alduin’s soul is clawing it’s way out of me, taking on his form, ethereal and wispy yet. His emergence from my essence is excruciating, him feeding on my own magic to aid him in his struggle to emerge in the world again.  
He finally is relinquished from my soul, which had a death grip on him. His wings, now fully formed, beat the air around him so he hovers over my body and the battleground.  
“FOOLISH JOORE.” he pronounces, and growls out a few words, something that in this state I can’t recognize, but it starts to rain meteors, like it did when I first encountered him.  
I slowly get up, groaning painfully, and look up at the hovering dragon in horror. Turning to the additional people who were not here when I lost consciousness (219), I understand some more.  
The Fioran Mages look up in abject horror at the dragon, shocked that this occurred.  
“What- did- you- do?” I seeth, looking at the leader, Laxus, who still had his hands up as if he was just performing a difficult spell.  
“We used Lumen Histoire on you.” Sting speaks up, and looks at me steadily. “We thought it would do something…. better than this.” he whispers the last part, his gaze dropping to the ground.  
“You… absolute… idiots.” I pant, trying to recover my breath. The effects of Alduin returning strain my body; it will take some time to recover anything so I can help defeat him again.  
“Should we attack it?” Wendy wonders, looking at the black dragon in the sky.  
“What do you think? You started this fight, go end it.” I reply, irritated more than I had ever thought I could be.  
Dragon Slayers. Idiots.  
Those still here exchange glances, and then leap up, using their secret attacks on Alduin, screaming bloody murder.  
I find a rock, sitting down on it and sighing in relief. I am still very tired from the flight, not to mention the fight and the Lumen Histoire.  
Hissing, I use a Restoration spell to heal my injuries, but my magic cuts out about halfway through. This is not how this is supposed to go!  
Wendy runs up to me, concerned, as the other Dragon Slayers fly into battle. Her hands come up as she takes a knee, and she starts to prepare a spell to heal me.  
My own hand shoots up and grasps hers. “Save it for the others. I don’t need it.”  
The blue haired woman looks at me in surprise, eying my visible injuries. Before she can speak, however, I call out, “MUL QAH DIIV!”  
Armor forms around me, translucent and glowing. Aiming at the black Dragon, my mortal enemy, I Shout out, “JOOR ZAH FRUL!”  
The Thu’um hits the worst being Akatosh ever created, and he hisses in response, but searches for a place to land. The others look at me with baffled expressions, but I brush it off. “He has to land. Be ready, and don’t waste Magicka.”  
They nod, some part of their faces clearly confused, but power up Dragon Force and Secret Spells. It won’t do any good, of course, but it should buy some time. He might go to Skuldafn, but I doubt it. The monster has been feeding off my energy for thousands of years- in no way will he be going down easily.

Alduin is stronger than ever, and I take cover behind a rock as he breathes fire at where I was just standing.  
The temperature around me is boiling, and I desperately clutch at the bow in my hands, my fingers clumsy with fatigue and my breath unable to recover itself. The presence of my weakness, fire, isn’t helping things either.  
I pant as I wait for the fire breath to subside, the duration of it much more intense and longer lasting than anything I can conjure up. Only a Flame Atronach could survive this, or something of higher power than the spawn of a god.  
It lets up, though, and I immediately nock an arrow to the bowstring, and fire it into the closing mouth of Alduin.  
He roars at the pain, the arrow flying directly down his throat and lodging in the back of it. With any luck, the residual heat from his Shout should make the metal melt, and poison him. Or something, I don’t know. I’m trying not to panic right now.  
The rock I’m hiding behind has completely melted now, and I spring out of the way, rushing away from the giant beast.

Instead of the entirety of the Dragon Slayers with us, it’s merely Wendy Marvell, Laxus Dreyar, Sting Eucliffe, Gajeel Redfox and myself. Rogue Cheney is not present, but the remaining Dragon Slayer who could be helping to bring down the World Eater is not.  
Natsu Dragneel evacuated the area with his Mate, Lisanna Strauss, and left with them.  
They left us to die.  
I honestly expected to fight this battle alone, like so many others, even the first time I faced Alduin in battle. However, as this threatens the entirety of the world, once those that are fighting with me volunteered, I thought they would all help.  
Curse my optimism. I should have known that only bad things come out of it.  
Alduin’s beginning to figure out our tactics, and noticed early on that we had no one that was entirely resistant to Fire, thanks to Natsu abandoning us. Now his Shouts are all about Fire, the meteors raining down on us with startling accuracy and setting us alight.  
I dodge another one, but Sting isn’t as lucky, getting hit square on and flying into the ground.  
This is getting more dangerous by the second. I take shelter again, and reach out with my magic to Sting’s body, levitating him out of the line of fire. They might not be my Family, but they are fighting just as well.  
Laxus and Wendy appear out of nowhere, Laxus using a Secret Attack and Wendy doing a Sky Dragon’s Roar.  
Alduin falters at this, but recovers quickly, Shouting, “ZIIL GRO DOVAH ULSE!”  
Laxus manages to avoid it, but, sadly, Wendy is taken in by the Shout. Her eyes glaze over, and she turns to us, powering up her ultimate attack, Shattering Light: Sky Drill.  
All the Dragon Slayers look shocked at the sudden turn of their former friend and comrade.  
I rush in the middle of the target area of the spell, and bring up Spell Breaker whilst Shouting, “MUL QAH DIIV!”  
The armor forms up around me while I cast Ebonyflesh on myself, and, as a precaution, I have the words for Become Ethereal on my tongue. Finally, I bring out Auriel’s Shield, rust gathering on it’s previously golden shine. I’ve not used it in a very long time.  
The tunnel of wind closes around me, and I grit my teeth, the Ward on Spell Breaker breaking several times but coming back up each time. Thank Peryite.  
Several flying object hit me, cuts forming through the magical armor as well as my actual armor. Konahrik has not healed me yet- I take that as a good sign.  
Once it starts to die down, I move towards her, slipping Spell Breaker on my back and transferring Auriel’s Shield, the rust loosened with the impact of the spell, and draw out Mehrunes’ Razor. Charging at her, the air clears, and the shield on my arm is practically vibrating from the energy stored in it. In a smooth motion, I reach Wendy, whose darkened eyes widen at my ability to withstand her ultimate attack, and I bash her with the shield.  
The energy releases, sending her flying back directly into Alduin, who then goes into the mountain nearby.  
“Huh. That was a lot more powerful than I thought it was.” I remark, as the Dragon Slayers in hiding move out into the light, regarding me with a new respect. (220)  
“Unfortunately, Wendy is… lost to us. Her soul has been dominated and taken over by Alduin. We have no choice but to kill her.”  
“Can’t we defeat Alduin?” Sting asks, leaning heavily on Laxus and trying to fix his bent arm.  
“That would take too long. Her will is being overridden as we speak- there is no return from this.”  
Laxus grumbles. “How about sending Romeo in?”  
“We can try. But one of us has to be with him, to do the deed if he cannot.” I have not turned from watching the smoldering ruins of where they impacted.  
Laxus grunts, and pulls out a lacrima with some difficulty. Wendy and him had been holding up the best against the attacks due to their connections with their Mates, but enhanced strength only holds up for so long. His right arm is a bit mangled from the attack when Alduin landed- Laxus blocked it with his arm, although it was covered with scales at the time. It’s still bleeding, with sparks falling down with the dripping blood.  
Gajeel’s iron skin is damaged, although his magic is reforming it quickly, and Sting’s Dragon Force is still in effect, although it’s turning back slowly as his magic power dwindles.  
Laxus finally manages to contact Romeo, who immediately hurries over, his body turning back from the flame he used to travel here as quickly as he could.  
A roar announces that we’re almost out of time, as Alduin is recovering. Wendy leaps down the mountain and slams into the earth, standing up as the dust settles. Romeo immediately runs towards her, and I look at the other Slayers. Exhausted and barely standing, they’d be no match for Wendy if she decides to kill Romeo.  
Sighing, I follow him as he rushes to his Mate. I’ll be there should she need to die.

Romeo approaches his love somewhat timidly, not sure what the situation really is.  
“Wendy?” he asks, and the woman turns to him, her eyes almost completely black.  
She opens her mouth to speak, perhaps, cry out, but then her eyes go fully black, consumed by Alduin’s will. I curse and tackle Romeo out of the way, not particularly caring about his wellbeing, but knowing it’d be better in the event of a firefight between Alduin and us. Particularly now that Wendy’s down.  
“She’s gone.” I say to him, as Wendy’s Sky Dragon Roar passes mostly harmlessly above us. From the first time I fought her, she’s gotten much stronger.  
“She…. can’t be…” Romeo says, his voice breaking.  
I heave a sigh, and look him straight in the eye. “You can kill her, end this misery and release her soul before it becomes permanently bound to Alduin’s. Or I can do it.”  
I offer him the Razor of Mehrunes Dagon, and his eyes flicker to it, before he shakes his head.  
“I can’t do it. You…. you do it. She deserves an afterlife.”  
“That she does.” I agree, and grasp it firmly with one hand. “It’ll be as easy as I can make it. She won’t suffer.” (221)  
Romeo nods, and turns away as I look out to spy Wendy’s back turned against us, her focused on attacking the Dragon Slayers and defending Alduin.  
My blood boils, not because of the sun. I hate all he can do. At least my goals are somewhat more noble.  
Somewhat.  
I vault over the rock sheltering us, and sprint at her as fast as I can. She doesn’t sense my presence until I am right behind her, already reaching around her to find her throat and slashing it through to the jugular. Her blood spurts out of her neck, and she gurgles as the magic accumulating in her hands and her throat dies.  
Almost immediately, her magic releases, most of it going to the Dragon Slayers in the field. Even I can feel it, the rejuvenating effects taking hold and healing some small injuries. Sting’s jubilated shouts reveal his arm is fine once more, and Laxus and Gajeel do a combination attack on the Black Dragon, who seems startled at the rejuvenated people before him.  
Their combined attack drives him into the ground, and I smile, before looking at the body at my feet. We’re fighting harder, for the loss of a comrade.  
We can’t let it go to waste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 218- It would anyway, no matter what I ask her to do. But some people might not approve of my methods for silencing opposition.  
> 219- I refuse to say I fainted. I do not faint.  
> 220- Maybe. I think it's more akin to fear rather than respect.  
> 221- Much. But that's not really going to help him ease the guilt, now, is it?


	24. Astounding Battles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Frontline by Pillar.

Sting flies over our heads, the crash against the earth earning winces from all of us. That is not going to be pretty- or fun to heal.  
Our magic is running low, and the injuries are accumulating as Alduin roars again. I hate this dragon, I think, as I grit my teeth and tighten a tourniquet on my arm. There is no magicka to spare for healing, as much as I’m not used to it. Conserving magicka is the biggest concern now. The longer we fight, the more he gets worn down.  
The last few dregs of magicka are being wasted in our feeble attempts to repel him. I close my eyes as I think of what I might be able to do, to try and prevent him. This is, after all, my destiny, although not my fault.  
Alduin’s roar is cut off as I think, causing those of us fighting to turn our heads to watch.  
The person who interrupted Alduin’s roar slams down into the ground, and the dust clears around them, at least enough to tell that it’s a Dragon Slayer entering Dragon Force- and the only other person who can do that without going into a different mode (222) is Rogue.  
I hear more voices joining in, and ground forces whip up with the dispelling of a Cover spell, one that apparently was powered by Kessie. She waves at me before turning to give Ortelloth a ‘good luck’ kiss on the cheek, though she doesn’t leave the battlefield.  
Beside them stands Lucy, wearing her Taurus Star Dress, Cana, holding out her right arm, which has something tattooed on it, Gildarts, his arms raised in a fighting stance, and others, all from the remaining fragmented guilds.  
Maybe I should let them live after all, I muse, as I survey the reinforcements. Maybe we have a chance. Maybe they’ll all die.  
Eh, you never know. It’s possible.  
The leader, Lucy, glances at me for a second, before nodding, and charges with her whip lashing out in front of her, destroying the ground where Alduin just landed. The black dragon roars, drawing in breath to Shout at her undoubtedly, but the spell powering up courtesy of Cana fires at him, sending him flying back into a mountain.  
The Dragon Slayers, invigorated by this, start powering up their attacks, especially as Levy and Lucy run to join their Mates on the battlefield. Ultimate attacks light up the place, and I smile under Konahrik as I power up Lightning Storm in both hands, the spell familiar to me in almost every way. Instead of it being used by both hands in one instance, though, I feel the power in both, and the Ultimate attacks are hitting Alduin at the same time as I unleash both spells at the black dragon.  
He roars, Shouting into the sky as his skin starts to disintegrate from the pure force of our blows, even as Gildarts uses Crash to destroy his bones, the magical attacks tearing apart what is left of his soul fragment.  
The final cry he gives Shouts out to the world, making the ground quake and rumble as his ashes leave, going to Aetherius, presumably, but that doesn’t stop the ripples of energy going through the earth.  
Half the guild members fall over, while the other half try to help them stand up again, before falling over themselves.  
I collapse to my knees as the ground rumbles, not even caring about it and what it might spell out for the world. We just saved it- worrying about it again can wait.  
However, that does not seem to be on everyone’s mind.

A lacrima call, could you believe it? Nothing too bad. Invel and Synapsicodia intercepted Natsu and Lisanna, and are holding them for me. Mneme seems to think that I wish to punish them for not participating in the fight for the world.  
Ah, she knows me so well. To the lacrima, I say, “Enact plan 23, Mneme, for them. I doubt I can personally see to it at this time, but they need to learn for themselves what it means when they don’t stand up for the world.”  
She bows her head in the picture, and smiles at me. The lacrima magic fades as the call ends, and I stand up, finally able to do so steadily. There is one more person here I have not seen yet, although, why he did not help, I am not sure. Perhaps he did, and I simply did not notice. (223)  
Bickslow walks over to greet me, and I smile tiredly, before remembering that I have a mask on.  
“You survived.” he comments, in a playful tone while his puppets behind him chant, “Survived, survived.”  
“It would appear so.” I say back, my joy at beating the World Eater yet again being suppressed by my tiredness. I wasn’t nearly this tired after beating him the first time. Was I?  
Shaking off the thought, I sigh, and drink in the day dawning as the sun breaks through the cloud cover. For once, I am glad of the burning sensation of the sunlight upon my Sil.  
“So what’s the plan now?”  
“You think I plan things.” I scoff at him. The only thing I’ve planned in the last decade or two was this entire thing to get Bickslow back. Why? Because I was insane.  
A vision of red swamps over me, the field and it’s occupants the same, except when I look down. I’m covered in blood, my blood, and my wings are gone, gashes decorating my body distastefully, armor ripped through, shield demolished, sword broken, magicka gone. I look up, and I find someone reaching down to gouge out my eyes before going for my throat, ripping it out and laughing as I struggle to breath, my sense of normalcy destroyed. The final thing the person towering over me does is to reach into my chest cavity, torn open already, and pull out my slowly beating heart. The action makes me cough up blood, while my hands scrabble feebly for purchase on the ground as it becomes soaked with my blood, staining the earth for centuries, perhaps millennia, because I was murdered here and I have failed the world.  
I’m brought back to the present by an intense pain in my back.  
Looking behind me, I see a ghost- Mavis Vermillion- tearing my beautiful wings off of my back.

My scream echoes through the air, the pain infused into it setting random things into motion that shouldn’t. A mountaintop trembles, trees bend down and spring back up so violently some of them uproot themselves, any creatures capable of hearing it howl, yip, bark, or cry out at the pain accompanying it, quite possibly breaking their eardrums.  
Head pounding, blood oozing from every conceivable part of my body that an enemy could hurt, I turn to face the culprit who tosses away the good things about being Dragonborn like they are disgusting pieces of trash that are unworthy of touching her ghostly pale skin.  
I roar at her, the air vibrating for miles around, probably deafening anyone close to me. She flinches back a bit, but her face is set into something resembling a gargoyles- not ugly, but definitely hard, and a bit grumpy.  
Everyone moves to get a proper look at what’s happening, though, and the sudden intakes of breath let me know that this is probably the weirdest thing that any of them have seen.  
She stands her ground (224), and looks down at me in the most despicable fashion, as if I’m a bug beneath her that deserves to be squashed with supreme prejudice.  
“You have shattered our family, and you continue to be unpunished for your heinous deeds and actions. I will rectify this discrepancy.” she speaks out, voice echoing throughout the field, as if she had just read a death sentence for myself.  
“Do you know that dragon we just defeated? I am the reason he is not here anymore. If I die, no one can save the world if he comes back.” I growl out, teeth clenched to block out and fight the pain.  
She narrowed her eyes at me, and lifted her arms, the familiar glitter of a spell powering up easy to identify. I growl, already weak from the battle with Alduin. This is not going to go well for anyone involved- the absence and sudden loss of wings is not going to help me in any way. (225)  
I can’t win this by myself, and everyone here will know that, if they haven’t figured it out already. This is the third battle today that I’ve had to fight against a foe that is impossible to kill (226) in almost every sense of the word.  
Using my Voice, which is one power that they can never take away from me, I Shout, “Mul Qah Diiv!”  
The spectral armor forms up around me, and I feel the power surging through me, reinvigorating me at least for a few moments. This should help, if only for a while.  
My armor, however, is not suited for this fight- Konahrik and the Ebony Mail have taken quite a beating. Hurriedly, while everyone looks away at the brilliance produced by Mavis in the spell’s power up, I change from the heavy armor into the Ancient Dark Brotherhood armor.  
The comfort they give me is invaluable, if I am to die here.  
Helping myself through it, I whisper, “My Sil is a Miraad to a God’s power- and their wrath.”

Instead of excruciating pain and the erasure of my body, though, I feel nothing but a comforting hand, as if someone is caressing my cheek like a Mother does to their child.  
“Rest, my Listener. Your Father is taking care of it.”  
I don’t argue, and feel my consciousness relax, slipping into what appears to be a light sleep that feels promising in the way of restoring my strength. The presence I feel is singing softly to me, something that I never got to have as a child.  
“Sweet mother, sweet mother…”

When I wake, I find myself staring out onto a scene that is terribly confusing.  
Darkness is all around my consciousness, but I can clearly see my body- more like in a vision, and my consciousness is elsewhere. Here. The Void.  
The Night Mother is next to me, watching, her form ethereal and half-here. Her red and black hair flows, disappearing at the ends, in an unending breeze, and her skin practically merges with the darkness, as if it’s both her and not. Her dress disappears at the bottom, and yet she manages to exude a motherly affection, though I’m not sure if it’s aimed at me or the entire Void.  
“Come, child of mine, and watch your Father take down that idiotic girl.” she speaks, voice comforting to me and like the voice I always hear in my head near the Night Mother.  
I obey, sitting down next to her on the ground she patted just moments before.  
“Isn’t it wonderful?” She sighs, gesturing around. It’s a murky realm of darkness and shadows, with the presence of ghostly voices from every space whispering. It’s creepy, but… lovely.  
“This is the Void?” I ask, my voice quieting the voices for but a second, before they start again.  
The Night Mother nods, and turns her attention to a portal that shows an image of the world before it. Looking at it, it becomes clear to me that this is a portrayal of a fight- with me.  
But…  
“Who is in my body?” I whisper, and the Night Mother laughs.  
“Is it not obvious? It is Sithis.”  
Peering at the portal, I can see the eyes of my body are glowing with power- and exuding a black mist from them. My eyes widen at the revelation, and I gasp. My body is able to withstand the Dread Lord’s power?  
The Night Mother answers me. “Yes, but not for long. Your soul is truly unique- to go through so much darkness, so much loss, but to keep leading our Family and steering it through such challenging times that have come about. We wish to reward you- and Sithis is fighting your battle for you. You will feel the burn afterwards, of course, but there is no way he will not win.”  
I can’t say anything, but merely watch as Sithis, in my body, lands a blast of dark energy on the first guild master of Fairy Tail, who cries out in pain and floats down a few more feet. Grinning, as the mask for the cowl has slipped down to around my neck, he fires off another bolt, using both hands, at the Fairy- who stumbles and drops to the ground.  
He rushes forward and slams my fist into the petite girl- sending her flying back, only to suffer more and more blows like that upon her fragile frame.  
I can only seem to focus on the fight- although I can faintly hear with my own ears the sounds of people screaming. Fear is often associated with the Dread Father, so is it not rational that he would inspire such fear that the onlookers are merely panicking with fear?  
Or am I killing the immortal ghost of the First Guild Master of Fairy Tail?  
Well, not me. My body.  
That’s going to be fun to explain.  
I look on at the images of my body- driven by Sithis- pummels Mavis Vermillion’s ghost into the ground. Is this the first time he’s been in a mortal body?  
He’s visited Nirn before, of course, with the Night Mother and her children, but… he’s never talked to me or done anything to let me know that he approves of what I’ve done with the Family.  
Worrying will get me nowhere, though. I refocus my attention on the portal in front of my eyes, and find that the fairy’s form is crumpled in front of mine, broken and bloody, unconscious and bleeding, barely grasping at life, shuddering in every breath and coughing up mucus and blood from collapsing lungs.  
One final thing happens before Sithis relinquishes his grip upon my mortal body- he focuses his own dark power- all that he can hold together in a pitiful vessel like mine, and exudes it, marking the land black for miles around and decimating the plains of Whiterun, but guarding it for any who wish to have safe harbor in our Family.  
As I return to the mortal realm and my body, I feel the sacred essences seep into me, rejuvenating enough strength that I am not dying, although my limbs burn and my lungs feel as though they will burst with the amount of air I need.  
I look down, my vision not the clearest, but I can still see the silhouette of Mavis Vermillion being pulled into the ground, her Curse being released so that she may rest. Sithis used her power to create a safe haven for his Family.  
I’ll take that as a sign of approval.

The silence around me stretches, and I turn to look at those behind me, to find that they’re about half a mile away and gaining. Moderately fast.  
I am in no condition to talk, explain, or fight any of them. Perhaps… it is time.  
Another roar punctuates the silence. A dragon’s roar.  
I look up in horror to find another black dragon hovering over the field, but it’s not Alduin.  
It’s Acnologia. (227)  
I curse. With my state there’s no way I can stand up to a single blow, or do any damage without putting myself in immediate danger. However, I cannot run.  
If this is my fate, it’s quite a lackluster ending. (228)

 

Another roar comes to my ears, however, as Acnologia is powering up a spell that would likely incinerate this entire sacred ground. It’s more human than the dragon’s, but it’s not….entirely.  
It comes rushing to me- Tsun’s. But why would he Shout something into Nirn?  
The answer powers down through the sky with a flash and a rumble of lightning- black lightning. The spell smashes into Acnologia head-on, and the caster follows a moment later, delivering a devastating punch to the head of the dragon.  
Electricity crackles at the point of contact, and explodes, making the dragon roar in pain and blunder around blindly for a time.  
Unfortunately, the dragon steps onto the sacred ground of the Black Hand, and immediately, shadows latch unto him, the tendrils growing larger and longer as they start to creep up him, the dragon unable to shake them off. As an added bonus, the shadowy tendrils pull him further into the sacred ground, allowing for more coverage on the limbs as they pull and pull. A dragon’s strength is no match for a God’s.  
The man who started this off slams into the dragon again, making him roar and spew fire into the air as he tumbles into the ground of Sithis, allowing the tendrils to completely cover him.  
Static sparks play all over the creature, shocking him into obedience and compliance.  
Finally, the last thing to be silenced about the creature is its roar, the black completely covering him and moving his mass, concentrating it in a smaller, much smaller area, and bringing him to my feet.  
Out of the shadows, pops the head of a man.

Just because he’s wrapped in shadows, though, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t struggle. The human Acnologia bursts out of his restraints, roaring as he swipes his hand at me and throws me backwards.  
I skid a few times before coming to an ultimate halt, my armor now brown with dust. Taking a hold of a sword at my side, I draw it, finding not Dawnbreaker, but Harkon’s Sword, the one I call the Vampire Blade. Acnologia roars again, springing forward using Dragon level strength to intercept me before I am ready. I hold the blade out, steady, and take a deep breath. This one- this could kill me. (229)  
I close my eyes and swipe, feeling the impact of two things.  
One- my sword hits something, slicing heavily as the person or object hitting it was unprepared.  
Two- I can feel something stabbing me in the stomach, more like it was formed by a punch and then the wielder reconsidered, trying to tear me apart.  
I open my eyes, almost fearful of what I will find, and see Acnologia in front of me, a blade sticking through his chest, while his arm is impaled in my stomach. Remarkably enough, neither one of us has moved.  
He glares up at me, wrenching his hand away from my body and stepping away, the blade withdrawing from his chest. I watch this, detached, and don’t really comprehend the fact that he prepares another strike, flinging the back of his hand against my face. Enough force is behind the strike that I go flying backwards, landing on the blackened dirt, face hitting the ground unceremoniously.  
I struggle to get up, feeling the impact of both the hit and the punch to the stomach from earlier. Pushing myself up, I turn my head to the person who struck me down, already charging. Mentally cringing, my hands push into the dirt, and I look down in alarm, finding my hands swallowed by the darkness. It is a Sanctuary….  
I sink in deeper, and smirk a bit at the timely escape it provides me, transporting me to a different area, behind the Dragon-turned Human. (230)  
He looks around in confusion, slamming his fists down where I was a few seconds ago, and not understanding what just transpired. This only gives me a few seconds- but I can do it. I bring out Auriel’s Shield and Mehrunes’ Razor, Shouting, “Wuld!”  
I come up right behind him as he turns, the Shout alerting him, and I slash him across his face, regrettably not killing him, but I get a few more swipes on his chest making contact before he growls and powers up a spell, slamming his fist into my Shield while I blocked.  
The spell, powerful as it is, is partially stopped by the enchantment, and he looks surprised when it doesn’t shatter.  
“This is a God’s artifact.” I state, and his eyes widen at that fact. “And guess what it can do.”  
I bash him with it, sending him flying back by the energy absorbed by the Shield.  
He hits the ground, managing to grasp at it with his hand, slowing his progress. Sadly, it doesn’t seem to have any other effect on him than sending him back by a good amount.  
Damn it.  
He gains speed as he takes off, going towards me at a rate that shouldn’t ever be possible, but a man steps in the way.  
With a little bracing, by the time Acnologia reaches him, he stops him by clamping onto his outstretched fist. With a little magic touch, he sends a crackling lightning bolt at him, sending him flying back into the ground almost a mile away.  
The man turns to look at me, and nods. In his eyes are the look of a man who has faced an enemy I have- and welcomed them as a friend.  
He has faced Tsun- and come back from the dead.  
I nod at him, and step back. This will be his fight- should he need assistance, I will step in. But until then, Orga Nanagear will fight this Dragon on his own.  
I doubt he’ll have too much trouble.

Orga meets the Dragon where he lies, taking a great leap and slamming his fist, glowing with magic, down on his opponent. Acnologia lets out a roar, aiming his magic at the person on his chest, but the other hand of his opponent comes up and forces his chin up, making the magical expenditure useless.  
Unfortunately, Orga forgot that Acnologia has two hands. Said hands punched simultaneously into the hand keeping him from hitting the Lightning God Slayer with a Roar.  
Orga recoils, a bad decision, and Acnologia takes the opportunity to let loose a Dragon’s Roar, the impact sending Orga flying high into the air and flipping several times, coming down and creating a crater at my feet.  
Hm. Interesting.  
The newly alive man grunts, getting up with effort, but nonetheless getting up.  
Unsurprisingly, Acnologia’s caused some damage. As a 400 year old Dragon nee human, he’s had quite some time to perfect his magic and make it much stronger than any on Nirn- except mine, of course.  
But there’s still a matter of debate on that. If I can get Acnologia down, maybe….  
I shake the idea off, but prepare a spell anyway. Orga will need some help, it seems, and I am glad to oblige. Even if I could control Acnologia, I doubt it would work for long. According to reports from Decimus, he is resistant to Dragon Supremacy magic, as told by the future Rogue during the 7th Grand Magic Games. So it would look like we have no choice but to subdue him so that we can execute him.  
Dragonbane sings out it’s tune as I draw it from the scabbard, the spell still charging up in my right hand. Orga turns, looking at me, but is interrupted by Acnologia roaring and slamming his entire body down on him, allowing me to release the spell, aiming at him, while slicing forward and making contact with Dragonbane.  
No sparks dance across his skin, but an open cut leaks red blood, and he roars out in pain. The spell fully hits him, poisoning him with a very special root converted into a spell. (231)  
He’ll be down, eventually, as the poison spreads through his system, but it will take much too long to just wear him down. Keeping his heart pumping with lots of physical expenditures will cut down the time needed for his demise by half, at least.  
Still, this could take quite some time.  
I grit my teeth as he roars and swipes his hand at me, making contact and sending me spiraling into the ground. At least he’s forgotten about Orga, for now.  
Speaking of which, the God Slayer reaches up, clasping the human dragon’s legs and slamming him into the nearest ground, conveniently above Orga’s head (232). It better have been hard- his strike hurt more than I care to admit- and possibly aggravated my wound from before. This delusional dragon needs to die.  
A flash of light blinds all of us for a few moments, and when I open my eyes again, I see a blonde man, hair halfway down his back and dressed in a crimson cloak standing where Acnologia was but seconds before. Turning, he offers his hand to Orga, who looks confused for a moment, but then laughs and accepts it.  
Faintly, in the distance, I can hear Acnologia slamming into the ground repeatedly. (233)  
Together, the newly reunited duo from the ashes of Saber Tooth take the fight to the human nee Dragon. Lightning bolts leap down from the sky, amplified by the Memory Magic of Rufus Lore, throwing their full force into Acnologia.  
I can’t say I don’t enjoy the scream he lets out.  
Using magic, the duo takes to the air, jumping higher than should be possible and landing squarely on their enemy, burying him into the black earth.  
His roar echoes, sending both of them flying back and narrowly missing anyone else. I concentrate on the soil, and feel myself sink down, appearing again near Acnologia, who doesn’t see me yet again.  
Focusing, I pour my magic into the soil, feeling continually more and more exhausted. This day, it’s just a walking disaster, is it not?  
The jarrin root is weakening his reflexes as it works it’s way through him. Where it would cause instant death in any other person, in a dragon? Doubtlessly too long for us to survive. And I tend to try and avoid dying.  
Using the power within me, the soil responds to my touch beautifully, forming up around Acnologia, slowly sinking him into the black soil that belongs to Sithis. He looks down, then around, charging up his fists with magic for the culprit responsible.  
His eyes narrow, and he throws the spells at me, probably painful in nature.  
I am, however, not sure, because Romeo Conbolt stepped in front of me, taking the hit and shielding my body from the effects of the magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 222- Like Lightning-Fire Dragon Mode, or Iron Shadow Dragon.  
> 223- No, he helped. Definitely. I can't cast Lightning Storm in two hands by myself, you know. As powerful as I am.  
> 224- Well, she's floating. So, air?  
> 225- It'll drain me more- and I've already used Highborn today, as well as a myriad of other powers.  
> 226- Though I have killed the others, who were immortal as well.  
> 227- YES, I KNOW WHO THAT IS. Now.  
> 228- Well, for me.  
> 229- I generally don't think about death. It's not a nice concept, but especially for me.  
> 230- Well, Dragon Slayer turned Dragon turned Human again.  
> 231- It's jarrin root, if you're wondering.  
> 232- Injuring yourself is never a good move, nor a fun one.  
> 233- Again, I hope it's stone. Or harder.


	25. Father and Daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Black Betty by Caravan Palace.
> 
> There's a super obvious reference in this chapter and please tell me your thoughts on it. I forgot I put it in.
> 
> One more chapter coming out, and it'll bring the tears. Won't update until when I first posted this. Have fun.

The blast fades away, and Acnologia looks up, the poison now spreading very quickly through his system, his heart pumping the toxins all throughout his body. He coughs, sputters, but recovers, strained though it is, as I slice at his face with Dawnbreaker, the impact making him flip onto his back. He doesn’t quite flip, however, as his legs are now sunk fully into the ground, making him unable to move. Slowly, he struggles up, but finds it more and more difficult, the soil dragging him down into it’s depths of shadow. His torso engulfed now, he snarls, attempting to drag himself out of the muck.  
I chuckle, bouncing so that I rest on the balls of my feet, my arms crossed over my knees, drawn up to protect my chest.  
“You are not going to escape.” I smile at him, finally proud enough to do such a thing, one that I rarely allow myself the pleasure of. Gloating.  
I feel a presence next to me, and out of the corner of my eye I see a black shape.  
“Morrigan.” I speak, and she wordlessly hands me her sword.  
“Execute him, Listener.” She urges me, and I grasp both the swords in my hands firmly.  
“A wise statement, Morrigan.” I rise, placing the two blade on either side of his neck, while his eyes pulse with hatred for me, for Morrigan, for the human population. Veins stand out, pumping around black blood, filled with the jarrin root toxin, and his sinking frame stills. Not even a breath of wind stris the scene, and I feel the eyes of everyone who has fought today with us on this.  
Without another thought, I move both swords, executing the human turned dragon turned human again.  
Wordlessly, I hand Morrigan her sword, nodding deeply in appreciation. A good execution should always have two swords.  
I smile fondly at the approaching shapes, running towards us both. We do, however, have some time before they get here.  
“Morrigan. I have a feeling I will be…. Hard to contact for a while. In my absence, I wish for you, and anyone you deem appropriate to assist you, to run the Black Hand for me. Can you do this?” I question, looking not at her or the approaching figures, but at the skyline. A beautiful new day is dawning, and although I do not like the day, nor the sun that heralds it, I can appreciate it even as it’s rays sting my skin.  
Because what is night without day? (234)  
Morrigan turns her head to look at me, then back at the sunrise. “I can.”  
“Excellent. Do you remember the saying of the Black Hand, our forever oath to be here?”  
The Morrigan nods. “Of course, Listener. Dawn may break, the sun may rise…”  
“But forever is the certainty of night. Hail Sithis.” I finish the saying, unable to not.  
“Hail the Listener.” Whispers a voice, and both Morrigan and myself turn to try and find the speaker, only to see nothing but blackened soil.  
“What do you visions tell you, Morrigan?” I ask, wondering if her power has increased since last I saw her.  
“I can see but a few minutes ahead, Listener; but a vague impression of our future has been revealed to me. It…. is not good, nor a fun path for us.” Her expression changes, as if trying to recall a very confusing and vaguely specific dream.  
“But as a Family…” I start, hoping it’s something good.  
“We’ll survive it.” She finishes her thought, and I glance over at her.  
“Thank you, Morrigan. You are a true sister.” I smile, and then the crowd reaches us.  
Some react to Romeo’s body, smoking slightly, but I know without a glance he’s dead. Congratulations Romeo. You saved the world by sacrificing yourself. (235)  
Others swarm the both of us, Kessie inspecting both Morrigan and myself before announcing that we are both not dead.  
Ortelloth claps her on the back and smiles at us, a silent thanks.  
The most astounding thing, though, happens.  
Bickslow is not here- his former guildmates are, grudgingly happy about our victory, but he himself is not.  
Why?  
I puzzle over it for a moment, before deciding I will find out later. It is more important and imperative for me to rest.  
As much as I hide it, I am… damaged. Harboring a god’s power, as well as having a piece of your soul ripped away from you, no matter if it was yours to start with, is not a pleasant experience. Adding onto that, the wing ripping thing, then fighting Alduin and Acnologia… there is a limit to what I can handle. A high limit, but there is a limit.  
I smile and nod as they all appear to be extremely proud to be here, wondering how long this will take and how quickly I can get away.  
I have my contingencies, and this is one of them. The ultimate restoring palace for someone of my caliber to rest, recuperate, and go into a magically induced coma to heal any, and all, injuries.  
So, yes. I will be gone for quite some time. The true question is whether or not I will wake up, or if I will be needed.  
Eventually, everyone dissipates, Morrigan disappearing with a lacrima call before most people even left. The palace is not far from here, and I will be able to make it, though it may be through sheer force of will alone.  
I’ve fought through many things alone before- I can do it again.  
Gritting my teeth and acting as though nothing is wrong, I leave the last of the people here, and set out in the direction of my palace.  
The mountain that once held the most dangerous ruin in the entirety of Keizaal- Labyrinthian.

 

I force myself to move, walking, somewhat unsteadily, to the one place I know I will be safe from whatever might bombard my forgotten palace. The last refuge for me in the world- and the most secure. Only I can access it, through the Dovah Sos.  
It’ll be lonely, that’s for sure, but if I’m in a healing coma, will I care? Absolutely not.  
I chuckle lightly at this, forgetting about my wounds for a moment. Summoning up the last of my magic, which has only partially regenerated, I use it to pull up Arvak, sighing as the skeletally flaming horse appears and paws at the ground, tossing his head and snorting. Smiling lightly, I mount his back, groaning at the pain of actually moving. (236)  
Taking a moment to catch my breath and orient myself, I sit still atop my trusty steed. The clouds in the sky are disappearing, and I take that as a sign for me to move on.  
I spur on Arvak, the horse breaking out into a gallop, my destination far away, but getting closer. Hopefully I wouldn’t have to travel for many days and nights, across blistering cold and scorching deserts to get there.  
“One last journey together sounds nice, doesn’t it Arvak?” I ask the undead horse, once he’s stopped galloping, simply loping along now. He shakes his head and snorts, picking up the pace just a smidge.  
I pat his neck, used to the bony feel of him as a result of having him as my horse for so long. “I wish that day will come too, my friend.”  
Scanning the horizon, I take in the beauty of the world, one I will not see for… I have no idea how long. But, I am scared that it will be long enough that I want to know the landscape before I go in.  
I gulp- this is scaring me.  
Why is it scaring me? It doesn’t make any sense. Certainly this is not the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done, nor is it the scariest. I have driven back armies purely on my own, I have beaten countless enemies, each with a worthy chance to kill me, I have survived the most disgusting tasks known to man because I wanted more power, courtesy of the Daedric Princes.  
So why does this simple task- healing myself- scare me?  
Arvak snorts, warning me that there is a very large and quite intimidating mountain in front of us- with no pathway up.  
I murmur a word, “Bex.”  
Immediately, a small path appears, not wide enough for Arvak to carry me on, which I must curse myself for doing when I built this now. Dismounting my horse is a struggle, both because of my wounds and the fact that I don’t want to. (237)(238)  
I pat Arvak on the side of his neck, sighing, and say, “Goodbye, old friend.”  
Gathering my strength and courage, I turn to the path, starting up it.  
Alone.  
Like always.  
I feel my hands shaking- I clench them to get rid of it the sign of weakness. I can do this. I have to. I will.  
I trudge up the mountain to Dragon’s Rest, my home, for the next few….  
Days? Months?  
….  
Years?  
I shake my head- these thoughts are… unhelpful. Keep going. I’ll get there, heal, and get back to my Family.  
Where I should be right now….  
No. I have to do this, and I know why, I scold myself. If I don’t force myself to do this- I doubt I will survive for very long.  
The structure looms over me, hidden by very strong illusion magic, and aided by the dormant magical powers hidden in the land beneath it. Labyrinthian was quite the symbol in my time- and, thanks to Morokei, it radiates Magicka.  
A perfect resting place to heal for a High Elf.  
The colors come into view, they magic of the land and the place it’s situated over painting the surface like dragonfire, bright orange fading to a lighter tone.  
Of course, the magic of the land and the ancient Dragon Priest who used to live below is not the only magic here. The Eye of Magnus is powering the place, with protection of the palace, maintaining the enchantments and illusion, and giving additional magicka should I need it. In this case, I do, so good on me.  
I suck down another breath, steadying myself against a slab of ice that easily cuts through my gauntlet and my skin, making me bleed. Ripping my hand away, I hiss. A small bite of magicka has returned, allowing me to burn away the offending icicle and any evidence I may have left on it. I clench my hand, stopping the flow of blood and cinching my resolve to get to the god damn resting place.  
To distract myself, I look up at the citadel again, finding comfort in the teal glow of the power of the Eye of Magnus. A tiny window, circular, rests at the top of the structure, just below the roof, in the center. Ice and snow surround the entire stronghold, making this path the only way in or out unless you want to fall to your death, and even then, it’s quite risky. (239)  
I huff out a breath, the miniature cloud white in the air, and continue onward.  
The last few stairs leave me out of breath, and I set down my pack, glad to do so even for a second, though I have to pick it up again.  
Not gently at all, I collapse to my knees, and take out a dagger. Not Mehrunes’ Razor, I am not that muddled in my thoughts. Slashing across my other palm, I look to my hands, both now gushing blood. (240)  
Still, I let my hand bleed over the symbol of Sithis, a skull.  
As soon as one drop of blood touches the metal, the skull outline in the keep starts to appear, the blood running over it lightly to give it the distinction from the black of the other stones comprising the citadel. I move one knee up, then the other, so that I can rise. Using only one hand, I swing my pack onto my shoulder, taking the weight on once more.  
I hear something in the distance, but don’t turn around- this is much more for myself than any other.  
Once fully formed, the skull reveals a door, triangular so that it’s shaped like a nose of an actual skull. A wind rips through, giving my the voice and the question.  
“How many lights?”  
I speak one word, and the wind tears it from my throat as soon as I utter it, seeming to give it to the door and no one else.  
The door cracks open, allowing me entry. I turn as I push the door aside, and spot a flying figure, too far away to really tell who it is. I am in no mood to deal with this, so I continue onwards into my citadel, the Dragon’s Rest. Finally, it will be fulfilling it’s purpose.  
The angry screams are drowned out by the sound of the door closing. I continue down a long hallway, blood dripping down from my wounds on my back, wondering who it was. And if I should have waited.

I groan and sigh as I remember how long it will take me to get to the healing center. Damnit, why did I have to be so dramatic? A smile breaks across my face as I admit to myself, grudgingly, that it wouldn’t be any other way.  
If Miraak and other Dragon Priests, not to mention every Draugr Deathlord, get to be as dramatic as they want, I will do as I please. If lesser beings such as them can do it, I should be able to do so without a single question being asked.  
The smile turns into a frown as I have to pause, leaning on a pillar of solid steel, catching my breath. Damn this, this weakness!  
I would punch the wall if I had the strength.  
Grunting, I push myself off of the pillar, standing on my own again, and continue onwards, glancing up and finding entirely too many stairs. My pack drops as I get to the base of the stairs, my body unable to bear the weight or the stress.  
I take a firm hold, or as firm as I can, of the handrail, and, using that, I drag myself up the first few steps, panting as I get to the fifth one.  
There are sixteen flights of stairs.  
Each flight has twelve steps.  
That amounts to 192 steps.  
Why did I do this to myself?

Bickslow’s POV  
“Listener!” I shout as the door closes, probably permanently sealing the place. She turned back to look- why didn’t she stop? Did she know it was me? Does she not want me to help her?  
I bang my fist on the door once more, then shove my body off of it, my robes flapping in the wind. It’s howling, almost angry, it seems, my puppets huddling close to the ground and me to keep from floating not so gently away.  
How to get inside? Obviously, judging by the bloody path up the mountain, she needs help. Why go somewhere isolated? Or is she condemning herself to death?  
A thought enters my head- is this her version of letting me go? Of letting everything going? Is she shutting me out?  
That’s three, but it doesn’t matter. I have to get in there.  
I waltz back to the edge of the rock face, looking over the trail that she climbed. Her blood glistens on the white snow- if she was attempting to not leave a trail it has not been accomplished.  
Turning back, I face the door and try to reach inside Listener’s head. What would she seal a place with, her own personal Sanctuary?  
A blood magic spell. I grin, knowing her answer to everything. Blood- vampires and their- our- fascinations.  
But will it open for my blood? Presumably, no- considering how she once described herself as the last of her kind I doubt so. What of the blood barrier on her manor, though? Would that help this?  
Perhaps, I muse, and scan the area in front of me again. What am I missing?  
I don’t have the opportunity to find out, as someone kicked me into the actual door, ten feet away from me, and sent a dagger whirling at my right hand, catching my wrist and probably tearing a tendon or a ligament or whatever.  
Normally, I’m the last person to say this, but hasn’t there been enough violence today?

“TRAITOR!” It’s all I hear before being blasted further into the door.  
Moving is difficult, but I manage to stand, after wrenching that dagger out of my hand. I cast it aside, blood scattering everywhere. I grimace, hating the feeling of blood welling up on my skin.  
Looking up, I see it’s…. Luna.  
This isn’t going to be pleasant.

She roars as she pushes me with her magic, seemingly unhappy with how badly I’m hurt right now as is. Whipping out two daggers, she charges at me, her magic flinching out to push me again, her rage causing her lapse in control.  
“You were supposed to be gone forever!”  
I dodged the first swipe, skimmed the second, and felt the blood drip down onto my cheek on the third swipe. The fourth slammed into my shoulder, her face contorting into a huge grin as she twists the knife in, making me cry out in guttural pain.  
I push her away from me, sending my babies after her, and slamming her away with a Point Blank Baryon Blast, followed by a swift Drop of a Gravity Well, sending her flying away at a much higher speed than would have been possible at normal gravity. Increasing gravity equals an increase in mass which equals an increase in speed.  
I wrench out her damn knife, flinging it away from me. The blood wells up and spills over, coating almost my entire left side, but her absence allows me some time to heal some of the damage she’s caused.  
She’s back on the offensive in a second, her attacks brutal, the tactics slapdash and the magical power behind them focused solely on hurting me, in any way possible. Her eyes flash dangerously from behind her visor, and I aim at it, the shining metal both distracting me and providing a steady target for my own strikes. (241)  
I slash at the visor, catching on the rim and sending it flying off, along with her entire body. Blood drips down from behind her ears, the visor apparently fastened there by something that drilled into her flesh.  
That…. That wasn’t like that in the Games. Minerva did this- and suffered for it- but there was no blood besides her own spilled then.  
“Mother and I were going to be happy without you.” from the crumpled little girl on the ground, this gravelly voice, sounding oddly strangled, emanates.  
“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice shaking from strain. When magic is barraging your body, it’s difficult to maintain a steady mind; it’s not uncommon to find people unused to the waves of magic, though they can be magic users themselves, trembling, panicking, or even paralyzed by the phenomenon.  
It’s also usually on much lower levels than this.  
An entire magical being is surrounding her- both dark and light magic is attracted to her greatly, making conflicting shadows across her soul (242) . It looks like a dragon and a… puppet? Are fighting it out, while a spider spins webs all around both of them, intertwining them together and separating them.  
“WE WOULD HAVE BEEN HAPPY.”  
I’m hit by raw emotion and power, the combination of feelings from her sapping my strength as I get pushed back.  
“FOREVER.”  
I grunt as she pushes even more energy into it, Luna standing up now, her eyes wild, flaring green against powerful red. Her hair flaps around in the storm she’s created, the magical aftereffects guaranteed to hit her later.  
“ALONE.”  
I hit the door of Listener’s hidden abode, and I close my eyes, clearing my mind but for one thought.  
Push the world harder than it pushes back.  
My eyes flare red, small trails of smoke appearing, as if like vents for magic buildup in the spell I’m trying to power. I grit my teeth, my familiar habit of sticking my tongue out almost winning- but I’ll save that for when I win this duel.  
Push the world harder than it pushes back.  
I take a small step, then another, and another. My babies lay down cover fire for me, distracting Luna from focusing all her rage on me again. I feel the burning flames of her passion, the cold, freezing fire of her regret, the boiling hot magma of her rage.  
Push the world.  
I’m almost near her enough to unleash the spell building up, but not close enough. I take more steps, and she finally notices me.  
Push.  
She turns around, enraged beyond belief to still see me in existence, as if I have the audacity to be alive, and screams.  
It’s the perfect time for me to open my mouth and let loose the one Word of Power that Listener taught me.  
“Fus.”  
It unbalances her, the power behind it pushing her back and stopping her magical tornado.  
My babies pour on the attacks, Baryon Formation going off with her in direct target, and I switch tactics with Gravity Magic. For now.  
I make her lighter than a feather, and shove her off the mountain.  
It won’t be a nice wake up call, as I increase her gravity to hit the ground as hard as possible.  
I didn’t raise her- is she really my daughter?

The distraction ended, at least temporarily, I’m able to focus on the real problem here- why Listener sealed herself away in this- sanctuary? Stronghold? Tomb?  
And how do I get inside? (243)  
My babies circle above my head, occasionally going into dives to look closer at the markings surrounding the entrance.  
I study it, wondering how she built it, before remembering that she’s an immortal ageless vampire with a lot of time and resources on her hands. Of course she’d build something like this.  
Can I get in? The last I saw her, she was…. Looking a bit rough. And that’s an easy way to describe it- her wings ripped off, a stab wound in her torso, magical energy used up and her soul likely torn around the edges due to Lumen Histoire.  
That’s not the kind of damage that a person should suffer through alone.  
But…  
Is she trying to? Why would she do that?  
A blood seal marks the entrance- of course. What is it with her and blood?  
I chuckle a bit at the thought of a vampire being captivated by their own blood, and it hits me.  
She built this for a reason, but one defense no one can crack? Her blood.  
Didn’t she say she was the last…. Dragonborn? Dovah Sos?  
If that’s the case… I don’t think that I can crack it. No one can.  
….  
That doesn’t mean I won’t try.

Listener’s POV  
I gasp as another memory rips through my mind, the steps imbued with every ghost memory of importance. This time, it’s Morrigan’s ceremony to becoming a Speaker.  
I feel my throat tighten up and my eyes tearing up again, leaking out the saline, as she looks up at me, so proud, so, so, determined, to make me proud, to make all of our family proud, to prove herself worthy of this position.  
It ends, and I gasp, taking the next step and finding Decimus and Fukuro spinning around and around, their engagement finalized with a proposal by the giant owl-headed man.  
The next step- Noctus wiping out an entire field of cadets at one of our training facilities, smiling so cutely all the while, with Lucifer gazing at her shyly in admiration.  
Another- Morrigan speaking to the crowd of people below her, their new Speaker, their new leader, under me. She won the loyalty of us all that day.  
Another- It’s Luna, her first successful Blood Magic spell in her hands, her little face smiling up at me, so… so precious.  
I have too many stairs left to climb to count.  
“Why did I do this to myself…” I groan out, gritting my teeth and stepping onto the next platform.  
Which, conveniently, has the memory of Morrigan meeting Luna for the first time- and teaching her how to draw a squirrel.  
My eyes well up with tears again. I remember that drawing… the squirrel had three tails, because Luna wanted it to.  
Shaking, I grasp the railing tighter than ever before, and resume my climb.  
This is the only way up to where I need to be.  
Curse my ingenuity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 234- There is a saying about the Dark Brotherhood and its inevitability. What is it?  
> 235- Of course, as a Dragon Slayer's Mate, it probably wasn't much of a world left in his opinion.  
> 236- It's been quite some time since I have been as injured as I am now.  
> 237- This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I am scared. Which I am not.  
> 238- I am not scared. Or frightened. Or terrified. Or any synonym of the word!  
> 239- I almost slipped three times. Long fall.  
> 240- Insert heavy sigh here.  
> 241- I would like to know how this looks from another person's perspective. Very confusing.  
> 242- Souls are the basic vessels to describe our magical style. When the forces of magic act contrary to what the soul's color is, it can have cataclysmic effects on the surrounding environment, animals, people, and, yes, even the person. Most of all, the person.  
> 243- That.... Is actually the more pressing matter.


	26. The Grand Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. Thanks for reading, if you did. Not sure when I'll complete Origins, especially with my psyche as is and lots of outside pressure.  
> This chapter's song is Hellbent by Mystery Skulls.

Bickslow’s POV

My pants are the only noise I can hear, my magic drained down to a fraction of what it should be, and I’m still. Not. In.  
I nearly scream in frustration.  
Then- in my mind, a memory surges forward.  
Something that really should have occurred to me long before I got to this point of such frustration.  
You must push the world harder than it pushes back.  
I pause, taking a few steps back from the entrance to her citadel, and think back, the words struggling to come to the forefront of my thoughts, the flow incongruent and muddled.  
Not Ro…. not Wuld…. Not Bex….. Wait, is it? No…. it’s not….  
I scowl and huff in anger at my inability to remember this word- it’s one word, how can I forget it?  
Finally- it pops up. I take in a breath of air, deep, deep into my lungs, feeling in my body, trembling in anticipation at being used.  
I breath it out, the word coming out naturally enough that I only have to whisper-  
“Fus.”  
As I open my eyes, I watch the magic make it’s way out of my body, my soul, and into the foundations of the citadel- the door trembles, and releases a question in a low voice, so low I wonder if anyone but Listener could hear it.  
“How many lights?”  
I consider it- what the hell is the door asking?  
Well, if a light is a purpose- then there’s me, Luna, and the Black Hand….  
Would she make it so easy? Half the people of this world would be able to answer that, with just a tiny bit of knowledge of her.  
No…. she wouldn’t make it that easy… But what if she did? Would she? The obvious answer would be three, but it wouldn’t be that easy…. Could it?  
No. I know Listener- she would never make it that easy, or that obvious. It’s probably something impossible to quantify, and she just made up the number on the spot.  
Or did she?  
I open my mouth, and a strong wind comes through, knocking the word out of my lips and into the mysterious force. Nevertheless, it seems I qualify for entry- the door opens, but just a crack. It seems like it needs something else, but there is no way to tell what it might be- or if it’s something that anyone but her can accomplish.  
I dart forward, the door inching closer to the point of non-entry, and I jam my fingers into the opening, only a brush away from hitting the material that would undoubtedly be able to cut off my fingers in a blink of an eye.  
I grunt as I push against the weight of the object, and as it opens more, my babies fly in easily, maneuvering around me with ease and grace only characteristic in them because of their practice and constant hovering.  
Finally, I push it up enough for my entire body to get through- though I duck a bit, not wanting my head to get clipped unnecessarily. I am too gorgeous to just die.  
The door rolls shut as soon as I dive into the structure, slamming shut with the ever so ominous sound of metal on stone.  
My eyes glance around, the entire place dark and boding, lit by sconces along the wall with black metal attaching them.  
Now, the small task of finding Listener. In this creepy and very large structure with defenses that could probably kill me.  
I…. should have thought this through.

The bloodstains on the stone guide me to a staircase, one that seems to go up forever. On the railing, there’s more blood, a dark red, almost a black, fresher than the ones leading me here. Looking to the side, I see Listener’s pack, and out of the corner of my eye I can see blood on a steel pillar not too far away.  
I hastily climb up five steps, my foot coming down on the sixth, when I’m suddenly hit with something- I can’t quite discern it, but I’m suddenly put into the shoes of Listener- I think- and she’s watching the snow fall on a mountain top, whirling around and giggling. I get the feeling she’s a small child, which is further proven by the old man coming close to me- to her- and scooping her up in his arms, his eyes crinkling at the corner, mouth smiling brightly and fondly at the same time, but no sound coming from him.  
I- she- reaches up, her hand touching his beard, grey with age, or stress, something, I’m not quite sure, but he smiles further at that, his throat making a strangling sound that makes the mountain rumble. She- I- laugh at this, and snuggle deeper into the arms of the old man, the familiarity radiating off of both of them.  
I’m pulled out of the memory, my mind scrabbling to catch up to this new input being taken away so easily. I gasp, trying to shake myself out of it. What…. What was that?  
Did Listener, as a last safety measure or precaution, actually imbue these steps with her memories?  
……  
Yeah, she’d do that. And likely, this is the only way up.  
To what, though?  
I guess the only way to know is to follow the memories.  
…. And the bloodstains.

Listener’s POV

The last memory fades from my mind and I pull myself up by the railing to the end, finally, of these infernal stairs. Again- why did I do that? Sometimes I’m too devious for my own good.  
Nevertheless, my goal is in front of me.  
The Eye of Magnus’ power runs through this place, as it’s built upon the ruins of Labyrinthian. Morokei would be so upset at this, wouldn’t he? Hah. One good thing about it.  
I twitch as I move forward, the pain hitting me much more fully than before, as I lurch towards the Ethereal Apparatus. Magic has been gathered in it since I created it; the whole point of this device was to keep me in an Ethereal state so that I might heal much faster than before.  
I never planned on my wounds being this severe, though. My exhaustion will not aid it in this endeavor, or the fact that my soul was almost shattered not a few hours ago.  
How long I will be in there? I do not know. The magic held in there is potent- only suitable in small, constrained doses, for almost any magical creature, even a High Elf. I could be healed in minutes, or in a century.  
It will not matter to me- but it might matter to the world.  
There is a console next to the Apparatus- it will allow me to set what I need to be healed. I doubt it can recreate my wings, and I don’t need it to- but it’s apparent- even to me- that I cannot heal the damage done to me.  
Those idiotic Fairies, I curse them, but focus on my task. I push myself, trembling, desperate to be able to give out under the strain of these wounds, but I cannot. I…. I must survive. Did I not just prove it? The world may never be free from Alduin and his terror, his jaws, his, his, inescapable devilishness.  
So I must remain. I am a pillar of righteousness that must always remain, the one thing, the one remnant from the past, the unending, unyielding, unrepentant stone that will never break, will never be defeated, eroded, destroyed, toppled, decimated.  
Always, I must be. So others will be.  
There is no cost too great, too high, too exuberant for my survival- for I am the world’s last hope, the last remaining right they will have to eek out an existence on this plane.  
Until I cease, the world remains. And it will always remain, as long as I am here to watch over it.  
So I must…. I must…. must…… re…. main…..  
I am so close to hitting the last button, the one that will start the process to heal me, but my body gives out, toppling to the floor, the strain of my wounds unbearable and unable to be tolerated any longer.  
Am I… defeated?  
The last Dragonborn…. I have survived decades, centuries, millennia of torment, torture, bone-shattering and soul-tearing pain, yet I am defeated.  
Betrayed by my own body. The irony…..  
I would laugh... if I had the strength, but…. I can… just barely… hold… my…. eyes… open….  
Will anyone… remember me? My…. achievements?.... My…. Family?...  
I can…………  
No…….  
Longer……………………..  
Think………………………………………………….  
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Bickslow’s POV

I pull myself up another flight of stairs, looking up and finding the last one- maybe. My foot is almost stepping on the next one when I hear a thud up above me- is it Listener?  
My eyes widen, my resolve firming up as I push forward, my foot landing on it and the memory ripping through my mind. In a matter of seconds, it plays out, and I have no time to steel myself in preparation for the next one- I merely push onwards, allowing the memories to pass through me. I can look at them deeply later- Listener might…. She might…  
I shake the thought out of my head. No. Can’t think like that.  
The steps are too wide for me to jump up them two at a time- so I have to proceed like I’m a normal person with no place to be. (244)  
I finally cross the last step and move my eyes upwards, finding a center of light cascading down from a small window, the light pure and untainted, a surprise from Listener’s usual tastes.  
I scan for her, but find nothing until my eyes focus more downwards. She’s collapsed on the floor, blood pouring out of her.  
“Listener…” My voice is but a whisper, but I move with as much speed as I can, practically flying to her side.  
Her eyes are almost completely glazed over, and she doesn’t look like she’s conscious.  
“No…” I mutter, and look around. The console nearest her has some blood on it- does she bleed everywhere, I wonder- but it might have a clue.  
Her eyes flutter open for a brief moment, a soft murmur of a word exiting her lips.  
“....bic….” is all she get out, though.  
She seems to be alive. For now.  
Oh god, what do I do?  
I stare into the face of my Mate, my eyes scrambling to catch onto some sort of life left in her own blood-red eyes.  
I find none.  
Light dims around me as the world seems to lose color… How… How did this happen?  
How could she be…. Dead?  
How can Listener, the person who has done a thousand horrors and more, the person who literally conquered the land to get to me, the person who has maimed and tortured and killed probably thousands of people, be dead?  
How- What- Why-  
Why would she be dead?  
“Isn’t….. Isn’t it….. That’s out of character for you, Listener.” I mumble, bowing my head over hers. My hands scramble to unlatch my helmet, wanting to look at her, one final time, with my bare eyes. No magic, no games, no regrets.  
The visor falls into my hand easily, and I toss it aside. I have no need of it now. My other hand caresses her face gently, the flesh the same temperature as mine, something that is unnerving to me, even still. (245)  
“Why, Listener….. Why….” I whisper, my eyes unable to close as they drop small tears onto her face, the only comfort I receive being that no color leaves her cheeks- the pallor of being a vampire stops it.  
I glance up, unable to stand to look at her again, and my eyes alight on the console- what was she reaching for?  
I gently set Listener on the floor- refusing to think of her as a body- and move to look at it.  
A turquoise button is glowing, reading something in a different language- but it’s the largest button on the console, and the bloodstains from Listener are near it- I hope she was reaching for it.  
My fingers hover over the button, glancing at Listener on the ground. She looks so…..  
Dainty.  
Delicate.  
Fragile.  
Without another second, I push down with my entire hand, feeling the button activate with a surge of energy- magic pulses through it, activating some kind of dam release. The lines in the room light up, and what looks like liquid magic pours into them, which cascade until an entire web of magic lights up the entire room, floor, walls, and ceiling.  
I watch in wonder as the runed panel in the floor glows blue, the magic emitting a different kind of light, which, strangely, invokes a calming feeling, as though everything is going to be all right. I dip my hand in the glow of blue, and find the cut from earlier, where Luna stabbed my hand, is gone, not even a scar remaining.  
“It’s…. A healing pod.” I realize, as I gaze upon it, the blue glow summoning up something reminiscent of a bed, only vertical and enclosed on all sides. The top releases and pulls itself open, the magic swirling around it in all manner of blues, some gentle and light, some harsh and dark.  
I glance at Listener- at her body- will this help?  
Silently, I pick her up, looking at her, and wondering, how long has she had this place of hers? Did she construct it to hasten her end, or to lengthen it?  
Will…. Will…  
Will she… be alive, if she goes into this… contraption?  
I don’t know- but my question is….  
Does even Listener know?

Morrigan POV

I feel something, as though it is reverberating deep in my bones. Something important is happening, and I can do nothing about it, nor anything to stop. I can only ride out the repercussions.  
I pause in speaking to Decimus, feeling this, this power, surging through me at the… loss? Gain? Of someone.  
Little is known about it, but grief can send out waves of magic, more potent than anything that could be conjured up by a person intentionally.  
But…. it feels more foreign than that. Somehow…. More ancient and powerful…. As if it were a source of magic, used to power anything a civilization could need.  
I sink down slowly into a chair, the tent walls that were set up as a temporary command station providing an effective cover for an exhausted leader, although the magic surge is even affecting them. These are inanimate objects, incapable of feeling any magic whatsoever.  
“This does not bode well.” I whisper, but Decimus catches it, just barely.  
“What doesn’t bode well?” he asks.  
Before I can answer, Nightshade storms in. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, which, upon closer inspection, look unhealthy, to say the least. Black spots appear at random in them, coming and going seemingly as they please. (246)  
“Hello, Morrigan. I see you are well.”  
“Nightshade. What brings you here?” I question, tired from the battle, but on edge from her appearance. Nothing quite like the daughter of a former leader appearing after said leader has disappeared after making you the next leader makes you nervous.  
“I am here to announce that I am the new leader of the Black Hand. Listener is dead.” she says it somberly, but smiles as she does.  
A wonderful sign, as always.  
“Why should you be leader?”  
“Listener appointed it to me, before she was murdered by her Mate, Bickslow.”  
“High accusations, Luna.” Her hand twitches, but her fixed smile remains. “There is no evidence to back your claim up, and, besides, Listener turned operations over to me before she left.”  
“You were not there to see it.” she claims, her smile sliding off her face with remarkable speed and ease.  
“Then why should I believe you?” I ask, looking evenly up at her, a glint of steel in my eyes.  
Her eyes narrow, and she turns around, moving back the few paces to the tent’s exit.  
She pauses, though, blocking both the entrance and the exit. Her eyes glitter, her pupils and sclera consumed with the black spots from earlier so no light can get through, nor any of the green and red can shine out.  
The black recedes in a moment, then Luna looks at me evenly and says, “I will have my army standing ready to meet yours on the battlefield.”  
With that, the daughter of Listener turns on her heel and walks out, head held high, and a smirk on her face, self-assured at her claim.  
Decimus steps out of the shadows, his eyes still locked on the retreating figure of Luna.  
“What did she mean, Morrigan?” he asks, although I know he knows the answer. He just dreads it.  
I sigh. “Regrettably, it means what you think it means.”  
He nods. “Of course. I will go set up a lacrima.”  
I walk outside of the tent, Decimus hurrying off, and I use my magic to make sure the sound of my voice reaches all the people in the encampment.  
“We…... are going to war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 244- Well, I was a little faster than that. A little bit.  
> 245- All vampires have naturally cold skin- it grants us immunity to the cold.  
> 246- Unusual, but normally not a cause for alarm. Normally.

**Author's Note:**

> (1)- Perhaps I can convince Sithis to grant him the power of becoming a specter, like Lucien or Cicero.  
> (2)- Mine is to my feet, and a little more. I never cut it as a child- there were no scissors in High Hrothgar, for good reason. Someone might lose control of their Voice and accidentally send it flying across the room, hurting, or even killing, another Greybeard. So, no sharp objects. Ever.  
> (3)- Her eyes are practically the only way she looks like her father, besides her hair, and she hates them for it, wanting to be like me instead. A cold blooded murderer, and that's what she likes. I have no qualms against it.  
> (4)- It resurged as... the events of a decade and a half ago occurred. My thinking it was gone was... false.  
> (5)- Red swathes over my vision, and I see the bodies of my comrades, broken and bloody, most dead, lifeless with their armor torn, ripped, legions of guards dead around them, but it's apparent that they were overwhelmed. Magic can only do so much. I shake it off before it affects my judgement.  
> (6)- No telling now, not now. It's no fun with spoilers. You'll have to wait and see.


End file.
